


Patient 826

by ValeskaDoll



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Doctor/Patient, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Escape, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Gotham City Police Department, Magic Tricks, Medical, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Medical Trauma, Memories, Murder, Nightmares, Original Character Death(s), Self-Discovery, Stalking, Surreal, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValeskaDoll/pseuds/ValeskaDoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Albany Lux is patient 826's dedicated doctor at Indian Hill. Shortly after observing him, she beings to have dreams and flashbacks involving her current patient. As patient 826 becomes stronger, the visions become more and more real, bordering on the line of reality. As she learns more about who he is and how he came to be in the facility, she builds a unique friendship with him. They discover they both want similar things. They make a deal. <br/>Jerome Valeska X OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Albany stood and watched as the two doctors drained the liquid from the tank. Inside was the body of a young ginger man, subject 826. Every patient at the Indian Hill Facility had their own doctor to look after them and track their progress. Subject 826 was to be hers. She had nursed many patients and inmates before, but this was something new, even to her. She was told the superiors had big plans for this one. She wasn't too interested in their plans, she was there to do what was asked of her and that was that. She knew all too well she was in no position to question any motives or the authority. She knew her place.

She knew better.

The two doctors had brought the subject out of the preservation tank and laid him onto a patient transport table, he was to be taken to Albany's lab. The only time she wouldn't be attending him was when she was either sleeping or the rare few hours break she got.

At the beginning of her employment she was certain she didn't want to be working anywhere else. Now she regretted her decision immensely and kicked herself for being so stupid. The pay was good, she couldn't deny that. Her every need was taken care of and her quarters were comfortable to live in. But the true ethics, or rather the lack of them, had only been relieved to her later on in her employment. It was then she had realized just how tight the security was and how close everyone was watching. Every single one of her moments were questioned. If she didn't provide a suitable answer, well she didn't like to think about the consequences. It wasn't rare for her co-workers to be there one day then gone the next, as if they had disappeared into thin air. She knew that wasn't the case, but she never dug any deeper into the matter. She was scared what she would discover. The superiors here ran a tight ship. Once you signed that contract you had signed your life away. You would remain working for them until you expire, and if she had learnt anything from her years of working there, the employment would continue long after your heart had stopped beating. She was thankful for one thing, for now she was the one observing and testing and not the one on the receiving end.

Albany escorted the two and subject 826 to her lab and allowed them access with her identity card. "Put him over there," she said, pointing to the center of the room.

The two doctors pushed the transport table to the spot specified and applied the breaks. They then left without a single word.

She closed the door behind them and collected a few papers. She brought a pad and a file over to the small table beside her patient. After pulling a small recording device from her lab coat, she pressed the record button and set it down next to the papers. "This is doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the second of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306," she shuffled through some papers. "Doctor Strange had requested I alone will observe patient 826 throughout. I will be the one administering his treatment for the foreseeable future. Patient 826, formerly known as Mr Jerome Valeska, came out of his preservation tank ten minutes ago. Today I must perform routine tests and record my findings." She pressed the record button again to stop the recording. Albany took a deep breath and looked down to the corpse. "Good morning Mr. Valeska. My name is doctor Albany Lux and I shall be your doctor. Now, have you any pain anywhere?"

She received no reply from the corpse.

"Of course you don't." She smiled to herself. She brought her attention back to the papers next to her and scanned them. "Right, first things first, I have to wire you up. Don't move, I will be back soon."

The lab was a pristine white. She hated it, but she was told no personal effects were allowed in the work space. Figures. No one was allowed to be unique here. Everyone was expected to allow themselves to be programmed and become their robots.

A few moments later Albany returned, pushing a small monitor and a number of wires. She set up the monitor. It let off a small bleep as it turned on. Once she had plugged some of the wires into the device she moved over to Jerome. "This might be a little cold, sorry," she said, she placed a wire with a sticky pad onto either side of his head. A drip slid into his wrist. "I hate the feel of drips, so unnatural."

"You do know they can't hear you, right?"

Albany turned to see a fellow doctor, Oliver, standing in the doorway, arms folded and a smile on his face. "I like to think they do." She shrugged.

The dark haired doctor entered the room and joined her next to the monitor. He scratched his short beard. "If the brain isn't ticking, the ears aren't listening," he sang. He looked down at the body. "Patient 826 huh? Got your hands full there."

She looked to him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it's Jerome Valeska isn't it? He was a right troublemaker when he was alive!" Oliver looked the pale figure up and down a few times.

"Really?"

He looked at her, surprised. "You...didn't know?"

She shook her head.

"You might want to do some research into this one then. Just so you know what you're letting yourself into." He turned to leave. "But I think you two will get along just fine. After all, you're not afraid of clowns." He smirked and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Albany's eyes fell to Jerome again. "Trouble maker, eh?"

 

The brunette sat at the desk in her bedroom. She licked her index finger and flicked the page over. She usually read the patient's file once and that was enough for her. But after her co-worker's warning, she decided to do a little more digging. She had discovered he was part of the group know as 'The Maniax', most of which were also deceased. She wondered if any of them were also in the facility. A group of mentally unstable individuals had escaped from Arkham Asylum a few months back. They later revealed themselves to Gotham as the Maniax. "So you're an outlaw huh?" she muttered to herself. "I always did like a bad boy." She glanced over to her clock beside her bed, was that really the time? She placed the papers back into a folder and got ready for bed. It had been a long day.

 

 

A dark room. Surrounded by silence.

Albany saw a small glimpse of light.

It was a tank.

She recognized the being inside. She approached the tank to take a closer look.

"Albany..."

She heard a whisper. She turned around only to find nothing but darkness behind her. She turned back to face the tank.

His eyes were open.

Albany jumped back and landed on her backside. She looked up to subject 826. She saw his mouth turn up into a mischievous smile.

 

Albany shot up in her bed. It took her a second or two to catch her breath. She looked down at her pajamas. They were covered in sweat. She lay back down with a sigh, it was just a dream. She jumped again at the sound of her alarm. Her arm flew over to it and slammed down on the button.


	2. Mirror Maze

Albany pressed the record button. "This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the third of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. Today I will be placing more wires on the patient and I will begin the drip therapy." She pressed the record button again. "Right, lets get you wired up a bit more shall we? I don't think you have enough on you yet." The machine came to life when she flicked the switch. She placed a wire and sticky pad onto his chest and pressed down. "So I can monitor your heartbeat when it comes back, or when it flutters when you see me."

The machine made no noise.

"Oh, you don't find me attractive then?" she laughed. "Each to their own." She remembered her late night reading. "So, you are...were one of the Maniax right? I heard they caused quite the commotion in Gotham. From Arkham I believe? I've been there a few times." She looked down at him as she scribbled down her notes. "As a visitor before you understand." She tapped her forehead with her pen. "I'm not all gone yet. But give it time. Any recommendations of which wing is the best? I'm one for a sea view personally. Would I be able to get that there?"

No reply.

"Hmm...didn't think so. Oh well, one can dream. Now-" She was cut off by a tune coming from her pocket. She reached in and pulled it out. She looked at the screen and pulled an annoyed face. She hit ignore and placed it back into her pocket. "Now unfortunately, Mr. Valeska, I am going to have to make that drip more uncomfortable for you and start putting some blood in you. Any preference?" She scribbled something else into her pad. "O rhesus positive, wonderful choice sir!"

 

"Used to work at a circus." She turned a page. "A family business. So that's what he meant by the clown remark." The paper in front of Albany was a newspaper from a few months back. It described the detailed investigation into the murder of a snake dancer, known as Lila Valeska. She had worked with Haly's circus.

Albany thought back, she remember visiting the circus on its second day. She wondered if she had seen Jerome there or bumped into him at all. On second thought she doubted it, there were so many people there that day. Posters for the circus had been plastered on nearly every wall in Gotham for the past month. There wasn't a single person in Gotham that didn't know about it. The poster was a cream color with the silhouette of two acrobatics in the center. The border was made up of small stars. The text on the top of the poster read 'Haly's Circus' in all capitals, a clown face separated the two words. Below that, showmanship text read 'The Flying Graysons'. On the bottom there was a picture of three big top tents stripped with white and red. Everything a circus needed was there: acrobats, clowns, magicians, food stalls, game stalls, rides and even a psychic. She steered clear of the psychic. She had enough problems dealing with her own visions, she didn't need someone to encourage them even more.

The body of the snake dancer had been found on the back of a hay wagon on the outskirts of the circus. Two detectives from the GCPD had discovered it whilst questioning some of the performers at their trailers. One of them had suggested they let her pet snake out, it seemed to be in a state of upset. Surely enough it lead them to her corpse. The performers were interviewed one by one. That included her son, Jerome Valeska, now known as patient 826. At first he seemed to be an innocent teen who had just discovered his mother had been brutally murdered. But it later came to light that he was in fact the one who committed the crime. Then the officers saw the true demeanor of Jerome Valeska.

 

Albany heard the distant sound of a tune. As she approached the building she recognized it as traditional circus music. The building before her had the words 'Mirror Maze' plastered all over it in bold font. Her feet forced her inside. The music dulled a little but was still audible. Before Albany knew it she was lost in the maze.

"Ha ha ha ha..." a ghostly voice cackled.

"Hello?" she called out.

A dark shadow shot across the mirrors.

Albany jumped back.

"Albany..." the voice whispered again.

She looked into the mirror; it showed her image on four different mirrors. She located one she could step though. When she turned to her left she caught another glimpse of the shadow on one of the mirrors. "Who's there?"

One of the mirrors moved seemly by itself.

In an attempt to be cautious, the brunette took only two steps forward.

The mirror stood at an angle.

Albany reached out her hand and gingerly pushed the mirror back.

The mirror snapped round at her touch to show a familiar being.

Jerome.

She stepped back and looked around as a manic laugh filled the air.

The refection wasn't moving.

She reached out her hand, but was thrown back with the shattering glass.


	3. His Crime

Albany observed the heart monitor as Oliver shocked the body again with the defibrillation unit.

"Third time lucky," Oliver said.

Albany nodded to agree.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The machine bleeped and Jerome's body jolted with the shock.

The pair paused and looked at the heart monitor. The slightest sign of life flickered across the screen.

"That will be all thank you." She grabbed her note pad again. A noise came from her pocket, she puled her phone out.

"You know, you shouldn't have that in the lab," he commented. He saw the uncomfortable expression on her face. "Anything important?"

Albany sighed as she looked at the screen. "No." She pressed ignore and put it back. "Just er...cold calls. Trying to sell me something."

Oliver began packing the unit away. "So, did you find anything else out?" he asked.

"Congrats on the clown remark. I believe you actually made a decent joke for once Oliver," she said still jotting down notes.

"Found out about Haly's then. I always found the whole clown thing creepy myself. I can understand why so many people have phobias of them."

"Coulrophobia."

"What?"

"The phobia of clowns," she said and returned his look, "it's called Coulrophibia."

"Get you with your fancy words Dr Lux," he chuckled. "You sound like a proper doctor."

"I am a proper doctor!"

Oliver laughed. "See you later."

Albany closed the door behind him. "Sorry about that Jerome," she sighed and returned to him, "now, where were we?"

 

The newspaper showed an image of Jerome Valeska stood in front of a height chart, a wide smile on his lips.

Albany's eyes scanned the quotation beneath the picture. "Jerome Valeska, 18, guilty of killing his mother." She looked below it and saw a picture of Lila Valeska when she was alive. "Must have been pretty bad for it to end up like it did." She pulled out another folder and opened it up to a document. It belonged to Arkham Asylum; an inmate medical report. It listed all of his psychological problems, possible diagnosis, what medication he was on and his tendencies. She came across a line that concerned her a little. "'Side note for the staff: caution. Patient is extremely violent. Do not leave unattended'." She looked at his picture on the report. "Well, I'm pretty sure you won't be doing any harm anytime soon."

 

The light flicked on and the lab was illuminated with the light Albany saw every day. She met the metallic bed Jerome lay on, still motionless. She took note of his heart rate on the monitor's screen.

"I think you and I will get along just fine..."

Albany recognized that voice. She moved her eyes to the body. "Did you say something?" she asked.

His arm twitched slightly.

She moved closer to his arm.

The limb shot up and grabbed her by the throat.

She grabbed the hand with hers, trying to rip it off. She looked over to his face.

He was smiling.


	4. Why The Dreams?

"So, matricide." Albany opened his eyelid with a finger and shone a light into his eye. "What did Mommy do that was so bad?" she let go of the eyelid. "Not much of a talker, are you?" she made a note of her observations. "Well, what you lack for in speech you sure do make up with dreams. Is that your doing or am I finally cracking up? I've heard people sometimes have dreams about a book or a film they have recently seen. But I'm pretty sure my research wouldn't result in me dreaming about you every night," she laughed. She reached up and replaced the drip which stood next to the table, then looked back at him. "Hey, don't flatter yourself they're not those kind of dreams."

 

Albany flicked through the file and munched on her dinner. She had pulled out her research on matricide in an effort to determine Jerome's motives. The medical records from Arkham had made a note that during the initial assessment. He had mentioned some kind of abuse between his mother and him. Although at that time it was unclear if it was a joint effort of abuse between the two, or if one of them was abusing the other. She had decided on the latter, the abuser being his mother. It didn't surprise her. She had heard many horror stories about individuals who travel with circuses or sideshows. The performers at Haly's circus were close knit, a family. She had found information to suggest the performers knew of Lila Valeska's death, but covered it up to protect Jerome. Whether this was completely true or not, she didn't know.

She began to wonder about Jerome's mental state. What would he be like upon his awakening? It may be possible that he would remember everything, only some things or even nothing. From other clinical trials she had participated in the results seemed to be a mixture of the three. Some patients were responsive and alert as soon as they awoke. Others not so much and many never woke up despite the appearance of a heartbeat and pulse. That was why she always talked to her patients. Many doctors believed the patients couldn't hear anything until they awoke. But Albany had read many papers on comatose individuals who could hear and even respond to questions. She hoped this would be the case with her current patient. The more she learnt about him, the more intrigued she became.

 

The sound of a faint heartbeat met her ears. She opened her eyes to find herself looking upon Gotham out of an unfamiliar window. Immediately, her nose was hit with the distinct smell of cigarettes. She felt a presence of another. Before she was able to turn around, she felt two arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"Hey doll..." a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

She turned her neck a little in an attempt to see the figure. She froze when she felt small butterfly kisses on her neck. It was clear it was this individual who was the cause of the cigarette smell.

The figure span her around to face him. His features darkened to a point they couldn't be seen.

"Jerome?"

The figure smiled, then disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Albany looked around at the apartment. It was messy and looked as if it hadn't been lived in for a while.

A sound came from opposite her.

She looked over to the door handle, it was shaking. She placed her hand on the moving item.

The door flew open.

Her father stood in the doorway.

 

Albany's eyes shot open. She looked over at the clock. It was still early, but she couldn't sleep any more, not after that dream."Maybe I will be visiting Arkham after all."


	5. His Apartment

Albany stepped off of the bus and inhaled the smell of the city. It was good to get out of the facility now and again. Although she was able to walk the town on her days off, she was never allowed to leave the city and she had to return by a certain time. She never failed to do so. She was looking forward to wandering round for a while, especially after her dream last night. She had experienced bizarre, vivid dreams before, but they were never as clear or prominent as the ones she was having recently. Maybe she was looking too deeply into her patient and her mind was working overtime.

She entered the usual coffee shop she visited on her days off.

The waiter smiled and nodded towards her. "The usual?"

She smiled in return. "Thank you."

The man turned his back to her and began his work.

Albany took a seat next to the shop's window. Someone had left a newspaper on the table, she began to flick through it. The front of the paper showed a picture of a well dressed cop from the GCPD, the article named him as detective Jim Gordon. She felt something in her gut turn uncomfortably. Her face contorted into confusion at this feeling. She ignored the rest of the article and her eyes held on the photograph of the detective. "Jim Gordon..." She muttered to herself. "Why are you familiar?" she asked the printed ink.

"Another success story." The waiter set the cup in front of her. "He's always in the paper nowadays, along with his partner of course. Ah, what was his name? Bulcock or something like that?"

"Bullock." The elderly lady beside Albany corrected him.

"Yeah, that guy!" he smiled at her then turned back to Albany. "Seems Gotham is finally cleaning its act up. It won't last, never does." He walked away.

She looked down at the paper as she set it down next to her coffee. She picked up the cup and took a small sip of the hot liquid. "Gordon," she muttered again. She ran her fingers across the image. "You know him, don't you?"

"Know who, dear?"

Albany looked over to the elderly lady again. "Oh, just talking to myself."

"The first sign of madness that is, dear."

"So I heard."

"Mind you, I'd talk to a picture of a handsome young man like that!" she winked.

The bell on the door rang as an elderly man entered the shop. He walked over and kissed the woman on the cheek.

Albany's eyes were still set on the door. She looked through the glass and her eyes lay on a window of an apartment.

"Hey doll..."

The whisper from her dream repeated itself in her mind.

"Miss?"

She shook herself from her trance to see the waiter stood beside her.

"Anything else for you today?"

"Err, no thanks. Here." She rummaged through her bag and placed a few coins in the man's hand. "Thanks." She walked towards the door and pulled it open. The sound of the city hit her as she took a step outside. Her eyes were still fixed on the apartment window. She crossed the street, dodging the cars and came closer to the building. She spotted someone coming out. She ran to them and caught the door before it shut. Before her was a small room with a staircase to her right. She began to climb them. She arrived at the top floor of the building. She stood before a mahogany door. With a slight pause, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

No answer.

She tried the handle, it was locked.

"What am I doing?" she shook her head and turned her back to the door.

A small metallic sound.

She looked over her shoulder to see a silver key on the floor. She walked over to it and picked it up. She ran her finger over the number six then looked up at the door again, it also had a six on. She looked around. She was the only one on that floor. She placed the key in the lock and turned it.

Click.

She tried the handle again and the door creaked open. The smell of cigarettes hit her. She took a single step inside and closed the door behind her. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings. It was the same apartment as the one in her dream. "Jerome..." she whispered. "Is this...your home?" she took another step and heard something move beneath her feet. She looked down to see a photograph. She knelt down and took a closer look at it.

The worn photograph was ripped at nearly every angle. A woman stood with a snake wrapped around her arms and neck.

"Lila?" she picked the photograph up and was hit with an overwhelming feeling of anger. An image shot into her mind.

She was cowering in a corner.

The woman in the picture stood above her shouting profanities. She held a bottle of alcohol in her hand, the free hand lunged towards her.

Albany opened her eyes. "So that's why you killed her." She had dropped the photograph. She picked it up again. Beneath it lay something she didst see before, a pack of cigarettes. She opened them and inhaled, they were the same ones from the dream. She shoved them with the picture into her bag and took one more look around before she left, locking thing door tight behind her.

 

 

Albany walked as fast as she could to the bus stop. She had another twenty minutes until her bus back, but she needed to get out of that apartment. She had felt anger like that before, it had brought back unwanted memories and she wanted to get out of there as soon as she could.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Her feet paused at the voice, she turned to see a smartly dressed man holding the packet of cigarettes in his hand.

"You dropped these," he smiled.

She looked at his face and had to remind herself to breath.

"You're...Jim Gordon?"

The man chuckled. "I'm becoming quite the celebrity, aren't I? Here," he said and pushed the cigarettes towards her, "you know you should quit. Not good for your health."

Albany placed her hand on the cigarettes and brushed the man's fingertip. The anger returned to her.

She felt something tight around her throat and her mind's eyes showed her on the floor with Gordon above her, his hand on her throat. She held a gun to his head.

She shook her head and snatched the cigarettes from him. "T-thanks." She turned on her heels as quick as she could and walked away.


	6. First Time Talking

"This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the seventh of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. The patient's heart rate is now being closely monitored. Although the heartbeat is weak, I am happy with his progress." She pressed the button on the record again and set it down next to her paperwork. "So," she began as she placed the end of the stethoscope on his chest, "I met Jim Gordon yesterday. What's up with you two?" she looked up at his face. "Any more enemies I should be aware of?"

No reply.

She sighed. "You are a secretive one Valeska." She picked up the photograph from her papers and held it above his face. "So this is Mommy?" she turned the picture to look at it. "I can see where you get your looks from. But the hair? What's up with that?" she looked at his hair and ran two fingers through it. "Genetics can be fascinating."

Jerome's heartbeat was was very faint but regular.

"I got your cigarettes by the way," she said, placing the picture back into the paperwork. "Gordon said you should quit." She crossed her arms and leant on the metal bed. "I bet you're dying for one right now. Get it? Dying for one?"

No reply.

"I thought you liked jokes? Or do you only like your own?" she looked down at his motionless face. "Take that as a yes."

The door clicked as Albany turned to key to lock it. She returned to Jerome and placed a hand next to his head. "Why are you showing me these things? What do you want?" she hissed.

A slight sound.

Albany paused her questions and looked down at his lips. "Did you..." she moved her face closer to his.

Another sound.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and moved it inches away from his mouth. She heard a slight hum come from his lips.

She placed her hand on his cheek and moved her ear even closer.

Jerome took a breath.

 

 

Albany pinned the photograph of the snake dancer on her pinboard and took a step back. She admired the mixture of pictures, articles and handwritten notes she had gathered. She crossed her arms and sighed. "You are a strange one."

 

"Why did you kill your mother Jerome?"

The walls were blank concrete, a light hung from the ceiling in the centre of the table. On one side sat Jim Gordon, both hands lying flat on the surface in front of him. Opposite him sat a ginger figure with tearful eyes. The light between them flickered. Once it steadied, Gordon was gone.

Only Jerome sat at the table, a smile upon his face. "Have a seat," he grinned.

Albany moved towards the empty chair and sat down, her eyes all the time on Jerome.

"May I?" he held out his hand.

Albany felt the cigarettes in her hand. She pulled one out and laid it on the table. She watched as his pale fingers picked it up and placed it in his lips. With a flick of a lighter he took a deep inhale and let out a contented sigh.

"Ahhh, that's the spot. Oh, nice name by the way. Albany Lux. Rolls off the tongue nicely."

"Why are you showing me this?"

He looked at her, the edges of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly. "You're my private doctor, right?"

"Well...yes."

"There ya go then!"

She looked around. It was clear it was only her and her patient in the room.

"Alright, truth be told doll, you intrigue me. You're not like the other quacks in this place, even you know that."

"Because I have visions?"

"That's one reason." He shrugged. "Another is you actually give a damn about people here. You treat them like humans, not like the others."

"I treat them the way I would like to be treated."

"Speaking of being treated..." he stretched his arm and rubbed it a little, "arm could do with a bit more of a massage. I've had this horrible cramp for the past day or so. Could you?" he asked with a sweet smile.

"You took a breath earlier. Was that involuntarily, or were you trying to talk to me?"

"Nothing is involuntary with me sweets." He took another pull on his cigarette. "Oh, whilst you're here, may I ask for a favour?"

"Depends what it is."

"Go look in lab 604 for me."

"604? What's in there?"

"You got access to it, go see for yourself. You want to learn about me? 604. Now if you excuse me," he stood from his chair, "I got a heart monitor to get back to!" he turned to leave then paused. "Oh! I almost forgot!" he returned to the table and leant over it table until he was close to Albany's face. "Wake up!"


	7. Theo

She looked up at the sign on the door. "604," she breathed. She put a code into the keypad on the handle.

It bleeped and opened.

She peered into the room.

A dark haired man was on the metallic table, a white sheet pulled up to his neck. It looked as if he had just been cleaned up.

Albany could already feel something in her gut, it was the anger she felt before. She clenched her fists and stopped by the body's side. She looked at the paperwork left on the small table next to the patient's head. She ran her finger down until she found a name. "Theo Galavan," she looked back at his face.

"You want to learn about me..." a ghostly voice echoed in her head, "touch him."

Albany hovered her hand above the man's pale forehead.

The voice was more firm. "Touch him..."

She let her hand rest on his skin. An image flashed in her mind's eye.

She was standing in front of an audience. The lights blinded her eyes, she could only see the first few tables before her. She looked down to see she was in a magician-like costume. She could feel her lips letting out a wide smile.

A sharp pain hit her neck.

She turned to see the man known as Theo Galavan. The sharp pain was coming from the knife he had stabbed into her neck. She began to fall. The pain was unbearable. Her throat and mouth filled with blood, so much blood. She tried to talk, but it came out as nothing more than a gurgle.

Emotions filling her head. She couldn't decipher them, there were so many. It was overwhelming. The light began to fade away. The last thing she saw was Theo Galavan towering above her.

Albany ripped her hand from his skin. "You're the one that killed him." She stared at the body. She slapped him across the face, then jumped back. She held her fisted hands close to her chest, trying to stop shaking with the overwhelming anger that had nearly overcome her. She looked over at the door. She had to leave this room before she did something she regretted.

 

"This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the fourth of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. The patient had began shallow breathing. It is steady and faint alongside his heartbeat. Drip therapy has been increased to ensure the patient is receiving the vital fluids needed for further progress." The button clicked. "Right, sir, what shall it be today?" she took his arm in her hand. "It was this one wasn't it?" she felt the knotted muscle in his arm. She began to massage it to try and get it out. "I went into 604..." her eyes staid on his pale arm. "I hope there isn't much pain when you wake up." She glanced at his neck.

Stitches lined a large proportion of his neck, presumably where he was stabbed.

"It must have been horrible..." her thoughts trailed off. "Tell me, is it true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes?" she placed his arm back down and pulled a small light from her lab coat. She lifted his eyelid with a finger and shone the light in. She observed his pupil dilatation for a few seconds. "Once your breathing and heartbeat is stronger, you should be able to open your eyes. I think it will be a while before you can speak, possibly longer than other patients due to your injury." After checking the other eye she took a closer look at his neck. "It has healed nicely. Hopefully it has done just as well internally. Well, we will find out when you wake up, won't we?" she smiled. She placed the torch back in her pocket. "That dream last night, it was so clear." She ran her finger along his cheek. "You're getting stronger each day."

Jerome lay motionless.

"But do me a favour Mr Valeska." She moved closer to his ear. "Wake up soon and stop these dreams."

 

 

A figure stood in an alleyway. The moon illuminated the floor and threw shadows onto the walls.

Albany placed her hand on a stone wall to find her way towards the figure. She saw a glimmer of ginger hair. "Jerome?"

He was covered in blood.

Her hand shot to her mouth in horror.

Jerome held a knife. He pointed it towards the ground beside him.

Albany followed the knife's end and saw a figure slumped on the floor, a pool of blood around him. She crouched down in an attempt to identify him.

A chubby man, brunette hair, brown eyes, dressed in a cheap business suit.

She reached out to him.

"I do the touching, not you!" a voice shouted.

It was her father's voice.

She jumped back and was caught by hands behind her.

Jerome moved around in front of her and held out the knife.

She looked down at the silver weapon, blood covering most of the handle. She took it.

A smile crept onto Jerome's face. He stepped aside to clear her path.

Albany held the weapon by the blooded handle and looked upon the slummed man. She knelt down in front of him and held the knife high in the air with both hands.

"Trust me..."

She brought the knife down onto her father's chest.


	8. He Needs Her Help

Oliver placed the tube of extracted blood into a bag. "Imagine if I was squeamish towards blood."

"I don't think this would be the right job for you if you were. Takes someone with a strong stomach," Albany replied, washing her hands.

Oliver scoffed. "You got that right."

Albany dried her hands and opened the door to escorted Oliver out. As soon as the door was shut behind him she rushed over to Jerome. She slammed a hand down either side of his head and stared down at him. "How the fuck do you know about my father?" she spat. "And trust me? What the hell and I supposed to trust-"

The corners of Jerome's mouth moved a little.

Albany held his chin firmly and watched closely.

The sides turned upwards ever so slightly.

"You can...you can move your mouth?" She looked down at his pale body. "Can you move anything else?"

It didn't move.

A sweet tune came from her pocket. She moved away from Jerome and grabbed her phone from her pocket.

Father.

She pressed deny and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She looked at Jerome. "What are you up to?"

 

Before Albany sat a man tied to a chair.

Her father.

Albany jumped when she felt something on her head.

"Ya know doll, we gotta stop meeting like this." Jerome moved in front of her, still running a hand through her brown hair. He held it up to his nose. "Mmm, I love the way you smell."

"What is that?" she motioned towards her father.

Jerome gave her a confused look then looked over to the man. "Oh! I thought we could have a little family reunion!" he skipped over to her father and stood over him. "Daddy told me he wanted to talk to you," he turned his head to face her, his usual smile on his face, "he has been trying to call you y'know?"

Albany crossed her arms. "One, I don't want to talk to him. Two, how the hell do you know about him?"

"You're not the only one who has dreams," he chuckled. "As you have been learning about me, I can't help but learn a little about you, and oh my! This little girl has some secrets."

"Look, my job is to look after you. Once you're up and walking again, then I wash my hands of you."

"You mean, we're not friends?" he put on a playful pout.

"There's no room for friends in this job."

"The lone hero act isn't attractive," he said as his face dropped.

"I don't care. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to get a decent night's sleep."

"Okay okay! Forget about daddy!" he turned to her father. "Excuse me, sir!" he took hold of the back of the chair and pulled it backwards. When he brought it back up the chair was empty. "Ta-da!"

Albany heard the sound of a crowd clapping. She looked around, but saw no one.

Jerome bowed. "Thank you! Thank you! I shall be here all week!"

"So you're into tricks as well as jokes."

Jerome took a few steps towards her. "I'm an entertainer doll, it's my thing."

"You still haven't answered my question, Valeska."

"Ohhh, feisty! Talk to me like that again and I will be sure to open my eyes!"

Albany rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay okay! You're the boss!" he ran behind the chair. "Please, take a seat."

Albany unfolded her arms and sat down.

Jerome cleared his throat and brought his mouth to her ear. "I need your help."

Albany snapped her head towards him.

Jerome fell back onto the floor and clutched his heart. "Ohhhhh god that hurt to say! My ego!"

Albany let out a small laugh.

Jerome lifted his head up. "You look a lot better when you smile."

"I can see why the staff at Arkham let you escape now. You're a pain."

Jerome sat up. "A pain," he pointed to his stitched neck, "in the neck?"

Albany tried to keep a stern face but failed when she saw Jerome smiled.

"See! I can be fun! But lets be serious for a while...eugh..." He smacked his lips a few times. "t

That wasn't fun to say."

Albany joined him on the floor.

Jerome crossed his legs and sat up straight, smiling.

"So, you were saying you need my help?"

"You see, the doctors here are not all...hmm how do I say this..." He placed a finger on his chin.

"Nice?"

He shook his head.

"Thoughtful?"

Another shake.

"Honest?"

He clicked his fingers and pointed at her. "That's that one!"

"Well of course they're not! What, you expected them all to be saints?"

"I don't care what they do with their experiments. But when it comes to me," he placed a hand on his chest, "I like to have a choice."

"And what exactly are they going to do with you?"

Jerome opened his mouth to speak, but paused. "Looks like we have run out of time."

"What?"

"Same time tomorrow?" He pushed his face closer to hers. "Wake up!


	9. Eyes

"This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the tenth of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. THE Patient has shown signs of muscle movement in the facial area. His heartbeat is getting stronger every day. No concerns have arisen as of yet, I am happy with his progress." She pressed the record button again and put the recorder down. "Well, last night was...interesting wasn't it, Mr Valeska?"

No reply.

"You know I think I prefer you when I'm awake. Nice and peaceful," she laughed. "Right," she said and picked up her torch, "as you moved your mouth yesterday I wonder if you can move your eyes. Shall we give it a go?" she lifted his eyelid with a gentle finger and shone the light into it.

Jerome's pupil shrank as the light came into view.

"I'm sure you can do it." She glanced over to the heart rate monitor and saw his heart rate had increased ever so slightly. She looked back at him. His eye was looking straight at her. She jumped a little, then laughed at her reaction. "See! I told you! Try again." She moved the light in front of his eye again. "Try to follow it."

The light moved from left to right above Jerome's eye.

Albany watched as his eye moved slowly, following the light. She let go of his eyelid and allowed his eye to close. "Fantastic!" she smiled to herself and began to take notes. Her writing was interrupted by the sound of her phone again. She brought it out and wasn't surprised to see her father was the caller once again. She answerd it and held it to her mouth. "Leave me alone!" she ended the call and threw the phone on the table.

A small chuckle came from behind her.

She turned to face Jerome. "Okay, Mr matricide, I get it. You think I should kill him. But let me remind you of something." She opened both of his eyelids and looked into his eyes. "I'm not Harold Shipman."

 

Albany lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

She couldn't sleep.

She had been tossing and turning for almost two hours now. She couldn't stop thinking about her father, she was trying to ignore the memories she fought so hard to block out all those years ago. She was moderately glad with the knowledge that when she finally did sleep, Jerome would be the one controlling her dreams. Hopefully that meant her father wouldn't create a nightmare for her to endure. She wondered if Jerome slept at night, or if there was no need as he didn't need to replenish his energy. She couldn't imagine being stuck in his state, not being able to move around and having to rely on someone else. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and attempted to sleep again.

Albany ran as fast as she could down the street. She turned into an alleyway to her left, panting hard and forcing one foot in front of another as fast as she could. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her father running after her.

He was gaining fast.

Her leg hit a metal trash can which had been left lying in the middle of the alleyway. She fell to the ground with a thud. Her hand moved up to her head and she felt blood trickling down her forehead. She moved her head up to see her father walking towards her. She scurried back, unable to stand due to the pain in her ankle.

He came closer with every step.

She was backed against a wall, there was nowhere else to run.

He took one last step and was now standing over her, glaring down with piercing eyes.

She covered her face with her hands.

Bang.

She peeked through her fingers to see her father standing still, a shocked expression on his face. She rolled out of the way as he fell forward onto the ground. Albany looked up to find a pale Jerome before her, holding a smoking gun.

He held out his hand.

She took it and he helped her up, supporting her waist. She looked up at his face as she was pressed against his chest.

"Almost time doll." He smiled. "Wake up!"


	10. Why He Needs Her Help

"So lets see," Albany said as she shone the light into Jerome's eyes. She watched his eyes move with the light. "Good, you're more responsive today. Hurry up and wake up so I can see that smile of yours when I'm awake." She winked playfully. Her phone buzzed. She rolled her eyes. "Want to take a guess as to who that might be?" she asked Jerome. She walked away from him and pulled the phone from her pocket. Just as she was about to look at the screen the heart monitor made a noise. Her eyes shot over to the machine.

Jerome's heart rate had increased drastically as his hand twitched.

Albany put the still ringing phone down and returned to him as fast as she could. She looked down at his hand.

It had stopped twitching.

"No, no don't stop!" she grasped his hand. "Do it again!" she felt him squeeze her hand weakly. Tears welled in her eyes, she fought them back. "You...you can move," she gasped. "I have to go and get-" She tried to walk away, but Jerome's grip on her hand stopped her. She turned back to him slightly confused. "You...don't want anyone else to know? Why not?"

He didn't move.

"Okay, tell me tonight. In the mean time I'd like to try something. I'm going to touch you in places and I want to know if you can feel it. Squeeze once for yes, twice for no okay?"

He squeezed her hand once.

"Right." She held his hand and ran her free and through his hair. "Can you feel that?"

One squeeze.

She hovered her hand over his cheek.

Two squeezes.

She placed her hand onto his cheek.

On squeeze.

Then onto his chest.

One squeeze.

She moved down to his knee.

Two squeezes.

"Okay, so you can feel mostly everything apart from your legs...hmm, interesting..." She let go of his hand and made a note of it.

 

Albany opened her eyes. She was in her lab, lying on the patient transport table. She heard two voices. At first they were muffled, but after a while they became clear.

"Once subject 826 is awake, the tests shall begin," one said.

"Are you sure? I still think we should try another patient," the other replied.

"Look, he's the youngest we have in the facility and the healthiest of them. From Dr Lux's notes, it seems he is progressing faster than the others. He will respond better than the others."

"When you say respond, do you mean withstand?" this voice sounded uncomfortable.

The other sighed. "If you don't want to be a part of this, then leave. This is a fantastic opportunity to test their responses and how the trials have effected them."

"But some of these proposed tests doctor, they are...horrific. Some even border on the line of torture, he would be in unimaginable pain! I think-"

"Do not question my authority! You know the score, you either shut up and get paid or you leave. Choice is yours! But for the sake of science, it needs to be done! I have chosen the subject, now all we need is for him to wake up and we can begin."

Jerome approached Albany. He stood next to her looking down at her body.

"Who were they?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know," he began, "but now you understand why I have to get out of here and no one is allowed to know I am awake, apart from you."

"I will find out who they are and stop them! I might be able to-"

"If anyone else knows I'm awake, then how am I going to get out of here?" he noted her confused expression. "You expect me to stay here once I'm awake?" he smirked. "I got a city to torment doll, I'm a busy man. This face had been out of the limelight for way too long!"

She looked down at her body. "Is this what it really feels like?"

Jerome leant on the side of the table. "Pretty much. It's nice for the first few hours. But I imagine after a few days it would drive you insane!"

"You imagine?"

"I'm already insane sweet cheeks, being dead sure hasn't changed that!" he placed a thoughtful finger on his chin and tilted his head. "In fact, it may give me an excuse to go a bit more stir crazy."

"From what I've learned of you so far, I don't think that would be possible."

"Oh," he giggled and leant over her face, "you ain't seen nothin' yet. You think I'm fun now, just wait till we get out of this place!"

"We?" she asked in nearly a shout.

Jerome took a step back and smiled at her response. "Go back to my apartment. Get me some clothes and look under my bed. I will explain more tomorrow."

Albany watched him walk away.

"Wait!"

He stopped.

"What's in this for me?"

Jerome looked over his shoulder with a mischievous smile. "Wake up."


	11. Parent Troubles

Albany placed the clothes she had gathered into a rucksack and looked around the bedroom. She remembered Jerome mentioning she should look under the bed. She knelt down and lifted the cream sheet from the side of the bed so she could see underneath. She saw a box. She reached in and brought it out, placing it on the bed. Her fingers grasped the handle and she lifted the lid. Inside was a gun, some bullets, and a knife. Her eyes widened. "Why does he need these?" she asked aloud. She decided not to question his request and shoved the items into the rucksack, hiding them under the shirt she had also placed inside. She zipped it up and threw it onto her shoulder. She looked around the apartment once more, thinking of anything else he might need. Her eyes landed on a newspaper clipping. She squinted and took a closer look, it was from the local newspaper.

The article told of the discovery of a body in an apartment not too far from where she was. The victim was identified as Paul Cicero. He had been found in his apartment sat on a chair, he had been stabbed in the eye.

Albany wondered what significance this had to Jerome. She picked it up.

Images shot into her mind.

 

"This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The twelfth is the tenth of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. The patient is able to feel certain parts of his body. On last inspection, the patient could not feel anything on his legs. I am hopeful that this will change in a few days." She pressed the record button to stop the recording. She turned her attention to Jerome. "So," she began, "not only did you kill Mommy, but daddy also?" she placed her hands on her hips. "Any step parents?" she took his hand and placed her other on his thigh. "Can you feel that?" she felt Jerome squeeze her hand once. "You were a bit hesitant there, does that mean you can only faintly feel it?" she felt another single squeeze. "Well, it's progress." She began to replace the empty drip bag. "You never answered me last night. I'm expecting an answer tonight you know?"

 

Albany rubbed her eye and yawned. Writing up notes was not her idea of fun. She sat back in her chair and picked up her cup of coffee. She inhaled the rich smell before taking a sip. She missed the table when she put the cup down. The hot coffee spilt all over her desk and onto the floor. "Oh shit!" she jumped up and tried to save the wad of papers she had scrawled notes on. "Shit, shit, shit!" she ran into her bathroom and grabbed a towel, she returned and tried to mop up as much as she could. She realized it had seeped into the top drawer of her desk. Once she had cleaned the majority of the liquid up, she opened the top drawer. She pulled out as much as she could, but paused when she came across a photograph in a wooden frame. At that moment she forgot about the coffee dripping into the draw. She reached in and brought out the photo.

It was a fair haired woman in her mid twenties. She wore a red and white polka-dot dress and shiny red high heels.

Albany smiled at the happy looking woman, her mother. Albany had few memories of her mother; she had died in a tragic car accident when Albany was seven years old. From that moment on it was just her and her father. That's when the abuse began. She turned the frame over and unclipped the back. She pulled the photo out and wiped the front of it to get the drops of coffee off of it. She unfolded the photo and saw her father next to her mother. "You were a fat bastard then, you're a fat bastard now," she muttered through gritted teeth. She tore the half of the photo with her father off, screwed it up into a ball and threw it across the room. She placed the remainder of the torn photograph back into its frame and set it on her table.

 

Albany looked down to see she was sitting on a carousel horse, it was slowly turning. She could see the other stalls of the circus surrounding her, a large number of people bustles about them. She looked around for Jerome, but she couldn't find him anywhere. There was, however, another figure. The first time she passed it she couldn't identify who it was. The figure gradually began to become clearer to her every time the carousel turned.

The figure was a large man, a cheap business suit, greasy hair and a bottle in hand.

She watched as he took a swing from it every now and again.

Once the bottle was empty, he approached the ride.

She counted every step.

He was right beside the carousel.

The man reached out and pulled himself onto the ride.

Albany jumped off of her horse, not caring that the floor was still moving. She fell to the floor. Her head began to spin even more when she saw the figure, now recognised as her father, standing on the other side of the horse. She scurried back until she came to the edge of the ride. She looked down at the spinning floor. If she was to fall off, she would no doubt have severe injuries. The ride was faster than any she had been on before. She turned her head and looked for the figure of her father. It took her no time to find him clambering over the horses to get to her.

He placed his feet firmly on the ground after swinging his leg over a pink horse. He loomed above her.

Albany's hand slipped from the edge of the carousel's floor. She whipped it back to her chest when her fingertips caught the ground. She looked down at her fingers, her nails were chipped and the tips of her fingers were covered in a few drops of blood. She clutched her hand with the other and looked for another place to go.

She failed to find one.

She watched helplessly as her father's feet moved towards her. She spotted another pair of feet beside him. She looked up to see Jerome lunging at her father with a knife.

The man dropped to the floor, blood spilling onto the surrounding horses.

Her eyes met Jerome's.

He held out a hand. "You do me a favour, I will do one for you."

Albany took another look at her father's body. After a deep breath, she took his hand.

Jerome laughed and placed his hands on her chest.

Albany felt him push his hands on her, forcing her off of the carousel.

"Wake up!"

 

Albany awoke with the feeling of shock. She felt pain in her hand. She looked down to see her fingernails were chipped, her fingertips had dried blood on them.


	12. Stalked and Found

The cool air brushed between strand of brunette hair. The sun peaked through challenging clouds above. The sounds of Gotham could be heard everywhere.

Albany's eyes were set on a mother and her small child across the park.

The child climb onto the bike, the mother behind her helping to keep the bike straight.

Albany noted this was the child's fourth attempt of riding her bike on her own. It was one of her favorite memories of her and her mother.

They had spent the entire day at the park. Her father had an important business meeting in the next town over. He expected to be there all day, so Albany and her mother took advantage of that and decided to have a mother and daughter day. She told Albany they could do whatever she wanted. Albany had already decided she wanted to spend the day at the park with a picnic lunch, an ice cream and to ride her new bike. Her mother had brought it for her only a week before, it was her birthday present. That year was the first year it was it her and her mother.

It was also the last.

The day after that perfect memory, was a tragic one. That was the day of the accident, the day her entire world changed.

Albany watched the young child skip over to the ice cream van, money in hand. Her smile was interrupted by a beeping. She looked down at her watch. "Is it that time already?" she groaned. She looked over at her fingers. She had to cut her other nails shorter, to match the ones on her hand. She expected to be surprised at her injury, but due to recent events, nothing surprised her anymore.

She picked up her bag, flung it over her shoulder and began to walk back to the bus stop. As she crossed the road, her phone rang. She dug into her bag and brought it out. "For god sake!" She hit the deny button and shoved it back into her bag.

"I'm not going to stop."

Albany froze at the sound of a voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder, then turned her body round when she saw her father behind her.

"L-leave me alone!" she shouted.

"Like it or not, you are my daughter. I want to talk to you, so I'm gonna talk to you," he said in an authoritative voice.

"Fuck off!" this time her voice was a scream.

"Is everything okay, miss?"

Albany looked to her right to see Jim Gordon standing next to her in full uniform.

"I'm just talking to my daughter." Her father smiled. "Been trying to find her for years now."

"I said leave me alone!"

"Sir, I think you should leave for now," said Jim.

Her father took a step towards her.

Albany smelt alcohol on his breath, this didn't surprise her.

"You ran away," he slurred. "Bad girls run away. Are you a bad girl, Albany?"

Sir, please keep your distance."

Her father ignored the cop's words and continued to move towards her.

"You know what happens to bad girls, don't you?"

Albany stepped back, trying to distance herself from both of the figures.

Her father's face changed as he lunged for her. He tackled her to the ground.

Albany had a thousand memories shoot into her mind as she screamed. She felt her father being pulled from her, but it wasn't long until he was on her once again. She felt hands on the edge of her belt, trying desperately to undo them. Another hand was now on her, more images shot into her mind. She recognized the images as Jim Gordon and Jerome. Her head felt as if it was about to explode. Again, the weight of her father was pulled off of her, this was her chance. As soon as she was free she scrambled to her feet and ran. Before she knew it, she was outside a mahogany door with the number six on it. She thrust the key into the door and fell into the room. She turned and slammed the door shut, making sure she locked it. She placed her forehead against the mahogany wood and began to violently cry.

 

"Trust me..."

Albany opened her eyes upon hearing a voice. She found herself in Jerome's bed. She saw a dim light glowing in the next room across. She pulled the covers off of her and brought herself to her feet. As she entered the room, the smell of cigarettes hit her.

"Want one?"

She spotted a ginger haired man sat in a chair, he was holding a cigarette out to her.

"You look like you need it, doll."

Albany grabbed the cigarette and shoved it in her mouth. She grabbed the lighter on the small table. She attempted to light it, but her hands were shaking so much she dropped it.

"Here." Jerome leaned across to her and flicked a lighter to life.

Albany moved over and lit her cigarette from the flame. She inhaled deeply, then let out an equally deep exhale.

"Better?"

Albany leaned her head back on the back of the sofa.

"Looks like you had a rough day," he commented.

"Rough," she smirked, "is an understatement."

"My offer still stands."

"So you're an expert at killing parents?" she asked with a sarcastic tone.

"Well, I killed both of mine easily enough."

"Yeah, look where you ended up. Dead."

He waved her comment away with his hand. "Minor setback."

After some thought, Albany lifted her head to look at him. She watched him take another pull from his glowing cigarette. "Do you really expect to just get up and walk out of Indian Hill?"

"I've still got a lot of tricks up my sleeve." He pulled out an ace card from his sleeve. "See." He smiled.

"So how do you plan to get out then?" she ignored his trick display.

Jerome placed the card onto the table. "I've had a look around, got a few ideas."

"Care to share?"

"Your father seems nice," he said, lighting another cigarette.

Albany stood and walked towards the door.

Jerome shot up and jumped in front of her. "I'm kidding, sweets."

Albany turned her face from him to try hide her expression.

"He's been looking for you, huh?" he tilted his head round to try catch a glimpse of hers. "You're looking at an expert here, you said so yourself, right?"

She looked at him. "I also said I'm not a murderer."

"I know you're not."

The doctor noticed his emphases on the word. "You mean...you'd kill him?"

"Well," he began, "I like to think it would be a lot more rewarding for you to get a look in, but if you prefer not to, then I'm sure I can handle it." He grinned. Jerome could see Albany was conflicted with emotions. "The way I see it doll, is you got two choices. One, kill the bastard, or two, live the rest of your life in fear of him and possibly be stuck inside that damn facility for the remainder of your days, and beyond."

"You'd let me come with you?" she asked, surprised.

"Out of the facility? Sure! You're fun to be around," he winked. He suddenly looked around. "Oh! Time for me to go!"

"Wait!" Albany looked up, but he was already gone. She looked around the apartment, but she was alone. Her eyes landed on the ace card Jerome had placed on the table. She picked it up. She saw something written on it. "Trust me," she read aloud. She flipped it over to see two more words on the back of the card.

Wake up.

 

Albany opened her eyes. She realized she was still in Jerome's apartment. She pushed herself off of the bed and grabbed her phone. She hadn't been asleep long, she could still get back to the facility in time if she left now. She would have to grab a cab instead of the bus. She gathered her stuff as she planned her route in her mind. When she walked into the next room something had drawn her attention to the table in front of a chair and sofa. There was one solitary item sat on the table top.

An ace card.


	13. He Speaks

"This is Doctor Albany Lux speaking. The date is the fourteenth of April 2016. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. The patient has shown an increased ability of muscle control and movement. Heart rate is strong and stead, the same as all respiratory tests. Patient recognizes light therapy and can follow my torch and finger when his eyes are open." She looked down at Jerome. "The patient also shows signs of continuous strengthening of communication skills." She pressed the record button. "You know, your bed is one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever slept on, Mr Valeska. You really should do something about that." Albany had thought a lot about Jerome's proposition. She did enjoy her work here and it would be a shame to leave, but she longed for freedom. She wanted to live her life, not work under strict rules and regulations for the rest of it. She wondered if anyone would come looking for her once she had left. What would she do once she was out of there? Where would she go? And more importantly, would she take Jerome up on his offer. She moved her attention back to the body in front of her. She looked up to his face.

His eyes were open.

She leant down over him. "Is that involuntary?" she giggled. She was surprised even more so when the corners of her patient's mouth turned up a little. After stifling a gasp she took his hand. "Can you move your head?" she watched as Jerome slowly turned his head towards her a little.

He paused.

"No don't stop! How about your arm?" she lifted his arm a little then let go.

His arm dropped back down weakly.

"Try again," she insisted. She took his hand again and raised it only a small bit. She let go and saw his pale arm shaking, but it soon held steady. She held back tears of joy and reached for her recording device.

Jerome's arm shot out and his hand grasped her lab coat.

She looked back to him.

His head was turned to the side, facing her. His piercing eyes were fixed on her.

She took his arm and placed it across his chest. "Try moving it now."

He successfully moved it and placed his hand back into hers.

Albany was stunned. In all of her years working here, she had never seen a patient's recovery so suddenly. She watched his mouth open, as if he was trying to say something. She waited with bated breath and moved as close as she could.

His voice was weak. "Wake up..."

"Wha-" she saw his smile, "oh that is so not cool!" she playfully poked him.

 

 

Albany took Jerome's hand. "Okay, let's try again," she said as she slid her hand under his back. "Ready?"

Jerome nodded and mouth a yes in reply.

"One, two, three." Albany pulled his hand gently and pushed his back up. She watched as Jerome managed to sit up easier than before. "That's great!" she smiled. "Now, let's get you dressed I will be right back." Albany shot into her room and grabbed the bag she had retrieved from Jerome's apartment. When she returned to the lab, she saw Jerome had managed to swing his legs round and was sitting on the edge of the patient transport table. She placed the bag down next to him. "I didn't know what your preferences to clothes were, so I just picked up anything," she shrugged.

"S'okay," he replied weakly. The ginger unzipped the bag and pulled out the clothes. He felt something else and peered inside. He looked back at Albany with a smile.

She shuffled uncomfortably. "Just for the record, I have no intention of using it."

Jerome moved the gun into a back apartment to hide the weapons a little better. He unfolded the clothes and took hold of the shirt. He put his arms through the short blue sleeves, but looked at Albany when he tried to lift his arms.

"Oh, here," she said as she helped him lift his arms and pulled the shirt down over his pale torso. "Do you need a hand with the others?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, I will put these back in my room." she picked the bag up and left the lab. Once she was in her room, she shoved the bag under her bed as far as she could. She turned and saw the pack of cigarettes on her table. She grabbed them and a lighter and returned to Jerome. She saw he had managed to put on the rest of the clothes.

A smiled crept onto his face when he saw what she had in her hand. He watched her open them and then handed them to him. He took them and pulled one out, he then held the packet out to Albany, offering her one.

"Sure, why not," she grinned. She took the packet, took a cigarette out, then shoved the rest into her lab coat pocket. She held the lighter out and helped Jerome light his cigarette he held in his mouth, she then lit her own.

Jerome inhaled as deep as he could and closed his eyes. He let out a soft contented sigh, then looked at Albany again. "Thanks," his weak voice said.

"More than welcome. So," she sat beside him, "how did you do the whole dream thing? Not to mention this," she held up her wounded hand.

He smirked. "A magician never gives away his secrets."

"Not fair."

"Gets boring laying around for a long time, I had to do summin'."

"I shouldn't really question anything that happens in this place," she scoffed. "I'm surprised black magic hasn't been added to the daily routines."

Jerome let out a soft chuckled.

"It's nice, hearing your voice when I'm awake."

"Get used to it doll, ya gonna hear it a lot." Jerome opened his mouth to say something else, but he let out a painful gasp instead.

Albany shot up in front of him. "What? What is it?"

Jerome motioned to his leg. "Tingly."

She looked down at his leg. "That would be pins and needles," she laughed. "You better get used to that, your gonna feel it a lot."

 

 

Albany opened the lab door. She looked over to the table.

It was empty.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Jerome behind her. She put her hand on her chest to feel her racing heart. "Jerome," she breathed. "You scared me." she looked around the lab. "Am I dreaming?"

He nodded.

"Why are we here?" she looked back to the doorway to see he had gone. She looked around the side of the door to see him disappear into her bedroom. She followed him. He had stopped in front of her table, looking down at her notes.

"Me?" he asked and looked back at her.

Albany noticed his voice was weak, he must have used a lot of his energy up earlier when he was awake. "Yeah, they're my notes."

Jerome placed his hand on them.

Albany watched as the papers began to burn. After a few seconds, there was nothing but ash left.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled the table away from the wall.

She looked behind it to see what he was pointing at. "A vent?"

Jerome reached down and pulled the front off of it. He looked up at the doctor.

Albany knelt down and peered inside it.

Jerome crawled inside, he looked over his shoulder. "C'mon."

She looked around her room to make sure no one else was around. She then followed him into the metal vents.

Jerome stopped and looked to his side.

Albany saw light coming from it. She watched him quietly open the vent and climbed out. He knelt down and helped Albany out.

She noticed they were in the security command room. "What are we-" she stopped when Jerome lifted a finger to his mouth. She looked around to see a security guard sat at a desk, monitoring cameras.

Jerome swiftly moved over to him.

Albany looked away when she saw him begin to press the knife to the guard's neck. After the gurgling stopped, she opened her eyes.

Jerome took her hand and pulled her over to a small screen.

She looked at it and saw it showed a number of small pictures. "Security cameras," she said quietly. "How do we turn them off?"

Jerome stood in front of the control panel. "When they don't want to be seen," he murmured.

Albany looked down and watched him hit the play button. She noticed a quick flick on the screens.

Albany had heard of this method before. There were certain things the doctors didn't want even the security personnel to know, so they would play a pre-recorded sequence which gave off the impression that everything was usual business. Then whilst it was playing, they would carry out whatever twisted plans they had in mind. The only people who would know the truth of what happened, where the doctors involved. The security and the cameras would be none the wiser.

Albany took a closer look at the screen.

A figure stood in a long white corridor. He looked up to the camera.

Albany took a step back when she saw her father's face.


	14. Her Past

Albany opened the lab door.

Jerome was already sitting up on the edge of the table.

She approached him and handed him a glass of water. "Here, try drinking this."

The ginger took the plastic cup and brought it to his lips. He managed a small sip, some of it dribbled onto his chin.

Albany took a tissue and wiped his chin.

Jerome watched her expression.

She noticed this. "What?"

His voice was hoarse and croaky. "What's up with you t'day?"

"Nothing." She walked away and threw the tissue in the trash can.

"Don't lie."

"Last night was not cool!" she turned to him.

"Okay, sorry I burnt your papers," he shrugged.

"Burnt my-" she frowned. "No, I meant my father being in the facility?"

Jerome looked confused. "Father?"

"Yes, my father Jerome!" she paused and took a deep breath to try calm herself a little. "I know you have control over my dreams, you have put my father in them before. Why this time?"

"I...didn't do...what?"

Albany could see the genuine confusion on her patient's face. "So...you...didn't see my father on the camera? You didn't put him in last nights dream?"

He shook his head.

There was silence between them for a moment.

Jerome opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't even ask!" Albany snapped before he could utter a word.

"I showed you what happened between my Mom and I."

"A bit too much."

"I also saw your fear you have towards daddy," he commented. He took another sip of his water, this time he didn't spill any.

Albany sat on the edge of the bed next to him. "My father worked for a local business. He thought he was some big shot, thought he looked like the big man. On the contrary, he wore obvious cheap suits, his stomach used to hang out of the bottom of his shirt, the buttons only just stretched round his beer belly."

Jerome could help but let out a small chuckle at the description.

"I know," she smiled. "He was a very entertaining site. He was away on business a lot, so most of the time it was just my Mom and I. It wasn't that bad," she shrugged, "we would do a lot of stuff together. For my birthday, we went to the park. She let me try out my new bike and we got ice cream. That's my favourite memory of her"

Jerome noticed her face change.

"It was also my last happy one."

"What happened?" he croaked.

"The day after my seventh birthday, she...died in a car accident."

"Oh."

"She was doing the shopping whilst I was at school. She had stopped at a red light, once it turned green she began to drive on. A car drove into her from the left, the driver had jumped a red light. She died instantly." Albany could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "As I was waiting in the playground for my Mom to come pick me up, a friend's Mom came over to me and said I had to go home with her for a while. I played with my friend at her house and I ended up staying over. It was a Friday, so I didn't think anything was wrong. The next day my father came to pick me up...I...don't remember much after that...I'm kinda thankful I don't."

Jerome took another sip of the water and let her pace herself.

"My father was a drinker, he always had been. But after Mom's death...he began to drink a lot more. It only took a few days for the entire house to stink of alcohol."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Jerome scrunched up his nose. He remembered the distinct smell of his mother's trailer, it smelt like her. It smelt like alcohol.

"You too, huh?" she asked.

He nodded. He didn't fancy talking about the memory.

"Well, at first he used to take himself away and drink himself into oblivion. I was left to fend for myself. I spent most of the time at my friends house or at after-school clubs. The only time I got a hot meal was at school or if my friend's Mom invited me for dinner. I think people knew my father was suffering, but I don't think they realized just how much. It was...manageable I guess. I was still kinda young so didn't really understand everything that was happening." She took a deep breath. "His temper got worse over time. I hadn't talked to him in at least a week and I needed some more school shoes. I asked him for some and he..." she swallowed her tears. "He turned to me, the look in his eyes, I can't... I can't describe it..."

"Full of rage, hatred, they look at you as if you are nothing but a burden. They scream regret and disgust at you."

She lifted her head to look at him again. "Yeah..."

"It's...something you don't get used to," he said, looking down at his water. "And you never forget."

Silence overcame them again.

"So he took his anger out on you?"

She nodded.

"Hmm."

Another pause.

"Was it just hitting you or..."

Albany wiped her eyes and stood up. She walked over to a cabinet and brought out her stethoscope. "I need to check your chest," she said, trying to change the subject. She put the two earpieces in and stood in front of him, her eyes on his chest. "It will be cold."

Jerome held his shirt up in one hand, his water in the other. "My mother used to make a whole night of it," he offered. "It seemed to be a hobby for her."

Albany placed the small round end of the stethoscope on his chest.

"Especially if she had a guy on her arm. A whole night of drinking, fornicating and beating Jerome." He watched her face. She had closed her eyes to try and listen to his chest.

"My offer still stand, by the way."

Albany ripped the stethoscope from her ears and locked her eyes with his. She lowered her voice. "Right now, I'm focusing on getting out of here. Nothing else. Understand?"

A signature smile appeared on his face.

"What?" she snapped.

"You're kinda cute when you're mad."

"Oh for-" she grunted. "I preferred you when you were dead." She tried to keep her stern expression on her face, but caught herself giggling with Jerome. She paused. "Wait, burnt my papers? That was just a dream, right?"

Jerome said nothing and instead averted his eyes, finishing his water.

 

Later that evening, after she had locked her lab, she returned to her room. She opened the door to be met with the smell of burnt paper. She looked over at her desk. Where he piles upon piles of paperwork once sat, was now nothing more than a few black marks and some ash.

The room was dark when Albany felt something cold on her. She opened one eye to see a white figure crouching over her. "J-Jerome?" she said sleepily and rubbed her eyes. She looked over at the clock, it was just past midnight. "What's wrong?" she saw him hand her some of her clothes.

"Get dressed."

She didn't question him and slipped on her clothes. When she looked up Jerome had gone. She slipped her shoes on and walked into the lab. She found him standing below the air vent. "Again?"

He smiled. "Part two."

She followed him into the vent. She expected him to stop at the security room, like they did last time.

He crawled past the security vent and continued onwards.

After what felt like a few minutes, they stopped.

Albany watched from behind Jerome as he pushed a grate out of the way and climbed out. She took his outstretched hand and stood up. She looked around. She didn't recognise the area. "Where are we?"

"Top level," he replied.

"Top level? That means...we are above ground?"

"Just above, yes." The ginger walked over to a window; it was covered by bars.

Albany joined him. "How are we going to get through that?" she asked.

"Bolt cutters," he said to himself. He turned to Albany. "Go back to my apartment. In the bottom of the wardrobe there should be some bolt cutters lying around." He turned his attention back to the bars and felt them. "They should be strong enough to cut through these."

"And if they're not?"

Jerome gave her a look.

"I know, I know, trust me," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Once we can get through these bars, we can break the glass and climb out."

"Into the open? You do realize there is security inside and outside the facility?"

Jerome took a finger and placed it on his doctor's chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. "You underestimate, doll. After all, you have seen, do you think a few guards are gonna stop me?" the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a menacing smile. He took a step back and glanced at the bars once more. "You'd better get those cutters as fast as you can, it won't be long until others realize I'm awake. I'm a good actor, but I can't play dead forever."


	15. The Nightmares Return

Albany ran down the stairs and stepped outside. She had made the quick trip to her patient's apartment to retrieve the bolt cutters. She still couldn't understand how someone could live with the mess. She shivered when the wind caught her, it was particularly cold today. The sooner she got back to the facility, the better. As she was walking to the bus stop, her phone rang. She took it out of her pocket and looked at the screen.  
Number unknown.  
Curiosity guided her finger to press accept. She brought the phone to her ear. "Hello?"  
There was silence on the other end of the phone.  
"Hello?" she asked again.  
A female voice came over the phone. She was singing.  
Albany froze. She recognized the voice.  
Her mother.  
Her eyes widened, her breath hitched, she swore she felt her heart stop. There was only one person who would have a recording of her mother's voice. "You're sick!" the doctor tried to hide the shake in her voice. "You're so sick, you know that?"  
"I'm not going to stop, Albany."  
"Yes, you are!" she gritted her teeth. "And I'm going to make sure you do!" she held the phone over a drain, she let go and watched it drop into the water below.

 

Albany threw the bag onto her bed and sat down beside it. She looked up at the photograph of her mother, it sat just behind the charred part of the table. She had managed to clean most of it up, but there was still a few stubborn burn marks that refused to leave. Even though the wood around the photo frame had been attacked by the fire, the frame itself was untouched. Tears filled her eyes. She threw her head down into her hands and sobbed. She heard faint footsteps stop at her door. She steadied her breathing and wiped her eyes. "S-sorry doctor, I...I just need a minute..." No reply, no movement. She looked up to the doorway to see her patient stood there.  
He steadied himself with one hand on the door frame.  
"Jerome!" she gasped. She looked him up and down. "You...you can walk?"  
Jerome didn't reply to her question. "What happened?" he asked. His voice was a little clearer and stronger than the day before.  
"Nothing." She wiped her eyes again. "You should sit down. You shouldn't be standing up this early, let alone walking."  
"I shouldn't be alive," he smirked. He sat on the bed, the bag between them. He opened it up and looked inside. Without a word, he zipped it back up and placed it on the floor. He followed Albany's eyes to the picture. "He called you again, didn't he?"  
Albany said nothing. She continued to stare forward.  
Jerome moved his face round to see her face.  
"I saw him, a few days ago," she whispered. She turned her face to him. "He's in Gotham."  
"I see..." He didn't offer any more.  
"He called me today, an unknown number," she paused, "I'm so stupid! I should have never answered it!"  
"Yeah, that was pretty stupid."  
Albany scowled at his remark.  
"But then it's even more stupid of him to call. It's almost as if he has a death wish," he chuckled.  
"I didn't agree to your deal before..." She couldn't deny the fact she had been toying with the idea in her head a lot recently. Her father's existence to her felt like a dark cloud forever hanging over her. She thought if she moved away from him it would be better. She thought she could move on and live her life instead of always being on edge and looking over her shoulder. The phone calls unnerved her, but she could always block the number. How many times had she done that? She had decided it was too many. She had so many phones and numbers over the past year alone, how many more would she have to replace? She could afford it of course, but that was besides the point. She never thought he would find her, she worked in a secret facility and didn't socialize often. When she did venture outside, she stayed close, going about her own businesses. Could she spend the rest of her life like this? One of the main reason she took the job at Indian Hill was to give herself more security. She had persuaded herself that she would be safe here. But now her father was in Gotham. He had found her. The thought of moving away again had crossed her mind. She couldn't keep running forever because of one man. The more she thought about Jerome's proposal, the more she began to agree with the idea. Not like, but agree.  
Jerome turns his head to her as she paused.  
"But now..." She didn't have to say another word.  
Jerome's smile grew wide. He held out his hand. "Deal?"  
She looked down at his hand, then back up to his face. She took his outstretched hand and shook it. "Deal."

 

Her teddies sat in a circle around her. She poured the empty cup into one of their mouths. "More tea teddy?" she asked. She put her hand on the top of the pink head and nodded. "How about you?" she looked at the fluffy bunny sat next to the pink teddy. "Oh, another biscuit? Of course!" she picked up a chocolate biscuit and placed it on the small white dinner plate in front of the stuffed animal.  
A door slammed.  
"Uh-oh." She shot to her feet and gathered the cutlery and plates up.  
She was too late.  
The bedroom door flew open; behind it stood a tall man. His tie hung loose around his neck and his shirt was untucked from his trousers. The aroma he brought with him would have made any child Albany's age gag. The sad truth was, she was used to it.  
She froze, the plates still in her hands.  
Her father looked at the stuffed animals on the floor. "Tea party?" he slurred. "A fucking tea party?"  
Albany hung her head.  
"How many times have I told you, babies have tea parties." He saw what she was holding. "Are those...my plates?"  
"Sorry...I was just...borrowing them..."  
"Did you ask?"  
She shook her head.  
"Did. You. Ask?"  
"N-no."  
"Then you didn't borrow them did you? You stole them." He took a few clumsy steps towards her, then yanked one of the plates from her small hands.  
Albany looked up at the giant and watched his face.  
He looked down at her and pointed at the plate. "Is this...chocolate?"  
Her small body jumped when the plate smashed against the wall.  
Her father grabbed another plate and looked at it.  
Albany jumped again as the second plate hit the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself crying. She knew what was coming.

 

Albany lay in the darkness. Her eyes were stuck to the photo of her smiling mother. Her shaking breath was the only thing she could hear. Her feet hit the cold ground. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and walked into the corridor. She pressed a few buttons on the lab's door handle and it opened with a beep.  
Jerome was asleep.  
She moved into the lab and shut the door behind her.


	16. Tonight

Albany felt something poking her in the back. She opened her eyes and saw a white floor. It took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts, then she remembered last night. She turned onto her back and looked up.

Jerome lay on his front on the table. His arm had a little more color in now. His finger was on Albany's skin, his other arm was propping up his tilted head. "Why are you in my room?"

Albany looked down at the blanket covering her. She realized she was still in her pyjamas. "I...I had a nightmare..."

Jerome watched her as she sat up. "My bad."

She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. "What?"

"I guess walking yesterday really took it out of me. I was in a pretty deep sleep last night."

She shook her head. "It's fine."

"What was it about?"

"It was a memory...a bad one..."

"Practice lucid dreaming."

"Huh?"

"Lucid dreaming, you can control your dreams. I used to get those kinda nightmares all the time," he shrugged. "But then I practiced lucid dreaming. Now I can kill whoever I want in my dreams."

"Sounds fun." She yawned. "Will give it a go sometime."

 

A few hours had passed.

Albany had showered and composed herself a little better. She felt a little embarrassed about the events of that morning. She was thankful Jerome hadn't mentioned them again. She looked down at her recording device.

"No point in using it," Jerome said.

"That's what I was thinking. After all, I have no written documents to back it up." She shot a look at Jerome.

"Y'know, I think I'm hungry," he said patting his stomach.

"Oh god, sorry! I completely forgot!"

"Hmm, what do I fancy?" he placed a finger on his chin as if he was in deep thought. "Ah! Two sausages, three eggs, some bacon, a slice of toast, some fried mushrooms and an earl Gray tea!" he looked at Albany for a reply.

"I can get you some porridge and a coffee."

He tutted. "Service round here is unsatisfactory. I will have you know, I'm giving this place a negative review."

"You can't eat too much." She placed her hands on her hips. "You haven't eaten solids in weeks. Your body will go into shock, so you will have to start off slow."

The ginger pointed a stern finger at his doctor. "You owe me a home-cooked meal when we get out of this place! Speaking of which," he moved a brown strand of hair from her shoulder, "what are your plans for this evening?"

Albany lowered her voice. "Tonight? You can't be serious?"

Jerome pointed at his face. "Take a long look doll, coz this is the only time you're gonna see me with this expression. I am serious."

"Jerome you haven't enough energy yet, you have only been awake a short while. What if you fall or something happens? If we get caught, we will be killed!"

"Didn't work out too bad for me."

Albany paused before turning towards the door. "I'm going to get you some food."

 

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" Oliver saw Albany preparing some food.

"You can have porridge any time, it's not just for breakfast."

Oliver began pouring himself some of the coffee Albany had made. "So, how's patient 826 doing? Any movement?"

"He's making slow progress. It's slow, but it's progress." Albany decided to keep her answers short and sweet.

Oliver nodded. "What about his neck? Quite a nasty gash he has there, isn't it?"

"It is, but I hope the internal wound's healing will mirror the external, otherwise it would lead to surgery."

"That's a big risk," Oliver sucked the air between his teeth. "Well, here's to hoping he doesn't need it."

"It would be more work I don't need or want." She was trying to make light of the conversation. She placed the bowl of warm porridge on a tray along with the coffee, a few sachets of sugar and a small cup of milk. "Anyway, no rest for the wicked." She picked up the tray.

"Let me." Oliver reached for the tray in Albany's hands.

"No!" she shouted. "I mean...I have a lot of work, I can't focus with others around." Albany turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could. She nearly ran back to the lab, taking care not to spill anything. Once she shut the door behind her, she sighed.

"Didn't know making food was that exciting," Jerome chuckled.

Albany placed the tray down next to Jerome, she saw he was flicking through a book. "Hey, that's mine!"

"Hmm?" Jerome looked to her, then flipped the book over to see the cover. "Oh yeah, I borrowed it. I'm a nightmare when I'm bored."

"I can imagine. Sugar?"

"As much as you can."

She ripped open one of the sachets and tipped the sugar into the coffee. "Only one for now. The last thing I need is you bouncing off of the walls."

"Need to conserve energy for ton-" he was interrupted by Albany's hand over his mouth.

"I don't want anyone to hear you." She took her hand back.

Jerome raised an eyebrow. "Want me all to ya' self huh doll?"

"What are we going to do once we get out of the building?"

"We go back to my place."

"Seriously? That will be the first place they look when they realize you are gone, you idiot!"

"Method in madness sweets. Method in madness."

"Then please, Mr Valeska, tell me of this so called 'method'," she replied folding her arms.

Jerome picked up the cup and took a sip of the warm liquid. "Oh man, you make good coffee Dr Lux." After another sip he looked up at Albany. "If we go back to mine, we will have all the stuff we need."

"For what?"

Jerome placed the cup down and ripped open another sachet of sugar. "For fighting them."

"Fighting?" her eyes grew wide.

"Yeah," he said whilst stirring the extra sugar in. "Of course they will come looking for us. But they will be attacking on my territory. Therefore, I will have the upper hand."

"You will have the upper hand against some of the most powerful authority figures in Gotham?" she uncrossed her arms and threw her hands up. "I knew you were insane, but seriously Jerome?"

"Hey, these guys have had it coming for a long time!" he threw his thumb over his shoulder. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that tank was? Dead or not, I reckon I was still entitled to some more space or summin'. Warm water at least!"

Albany watched him take a gulp of coffee. She was waiting for the rest of his reason.

"Plus, it's been a while since my last murdering spree."

"Of course." She groaned.

"Look, don't worry your pretty little head about what happens later." He took a piece of her hair and twiddled it between his fingers. "Just focus on getting out okay?"

"Fine." she pushed his hand away and turned her back to him.

"Hey."

She looked back at him.

"You trust me, right?" he tilted his head to the side a bit.

She turned back to the draw in front of her and sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."


	17. Time For Action

The brunette took one last look around her room. She had Jerome's bag in her hand. Inside were the weapons she had retrieved from his apartment, along with a change of clothes and the photograph of her mother. She didn't need to take anything else, materialistic items were replaceable. After the last look had satisfied her, she entered her lab for what she hoped to be the last time.

Jerome had already taken the grate off of the air vent. He pushed her chair underneath it and turned to her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here. Got everything you need?"

She nodded and joined him in front of the chair. She looked up at the vent and let out an audible sigh.

"Y'know, I'm gonna miss this place," he said, folding his arms and looking around the room.

"You're on your own there." She looked him up and down. "You sure you're able to run? You still look a bit unsteady," she noted.

Jerome turned to face her. "Doll, I've made more daring and complex escapes whilst under fire from a GCPD unit with a bullet wound and a broken arm. I think I'm gonna be fine. But," he added, "if I am killed, I will look forward to receiving more of your treatment," he winked. "You have an excellent bedside manner."

"Wouldn't count on that."

"Why not?".

"If we get caught we will both be killed."

"Ah, good point. Oh well, we can share a drip, then."

She shook her head. "Let's just get this over and done..." Albany turned herself around when she heard the door open. Her heart stopped when she saw Oliver.

Oliver looked at her, then to the transport table. His eyes finally met Jerome's face. Oliver opened his mouth and let out a small gasp. "Albany..." he looked back at her. "What...what the hell is going on?"

Albany's heart began beating again, it was racing faster than it ever had before. Her chest became tight, her mouth was dry. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She felt Jerome pressed against her back.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pointed the gun at Oliver.

"No!" Albany pulled the gun out of his hands. "You can't kill him, people will know!"

"Albany, if we keep him alive, they will know!"

Albany stared at Oliver with pleading eyes. "Oliver please, please don't tell anyone!"

The man was still looking at Jerome. "He is alive?" he asked.

"Yes Oliver but please don't tell!"

Oliver took a step away from Albany. "How long...how long has he...been awake?"

"Oliver that doesn't matter! Just promise me-"

"You're helping him escape?" he had raised his voice to a level Albany wasn't comfortable with.

Jerome grabbed Albany's hand. "C'mon doll, he's not gonna listen to ya'."

Oliver lunged for Jerome and ripped his hand from Albany's. "Get off of her you monster!"

"Oliver!" Albany shouted and tried to pull him back.

Jerome felt Oliver's fist hit the side of his face.

Oliver stopped when he felt something cold on the back of his neck. He let go of Jerome and froze.

"Oliver," Albany began, her voice quiet. "Please...don't make me do this."

"I can't just let you walk out of here."

Jerome spat some blood onto the floor next to him and wiped his mouth. "We're not. We are gonna crawl," he said.

Oliver looked down at the smile on his face and his hands balled into fists again.

"Oliver, just walk away. Please."

"You know I can't do that," he replied, his eyes still on the ginger.

"Yes, you can. You can walk out of that door and forget everything you've seen."

Oliver shook his head and turned to face her. "No Albany. You don't know what he is like, what he is capable of. You want to put your trust in a man who killed his-"

"His mother, I know."

"You...you know?"

"You told me to do my research. I did. I know everything."

He shook his head again. "No, no you don't! You only know what's on the paper! You don't know his mind!"

"Oh trust me, she does," Jerome clambered to his feet laughing.

Oliver gritted his teeth. "I wasn't talking to you!"

"No, but you were talking about me." Jerome walked around the man and stopped next to Albany. "So I figured I'm aloud an opinion on the conversation." he looked at his doctor and held his hand out for the gun. "We gotta go." he reached for the gun.

"No!" Albany pulled the gun away from his reach. "No..." she took a deep breath and tried to hold back her tears. "Oliver...please...I'm going to ask you one last time. Please, just walk away and stay quiet...please...for me..."

Oliver looked at her, then to Jerome, then back to her. "I can't Albany,. I'm sorry."

"It's okay...I...understand." Albany cocked the gun and placed her finger on the trigger. She closed her eyes as the tears began to fall. "I'm...sorry."

"Alba-"

Bang.

Albany lowered the gun, her eyes still closed.

Jerome grabbed her and pulled her into his chest.

She dropped the gun and threw her arms around him as she sobbed.

He moved his mouth to her ear. "We gotta move, someone would have heard that." he felt her nod. He picked up the gun and shoved it back in the bag.

She took it from his hands and turned to look at Oliver.

Jerome grabbed her face and turned it to him. "No, don't look. You're not ready for that."

Albany swore she saw something flicker across his eyes. She looked down at his split lip. She wiped a drop of blood away.

He took her hand from his lips. "We can play doctors and nurses later," he winked. He brought her back over to the vent.

 

Jerome had slowed his crawling to a minimum pace. He peered through a metallic grate, he saw a single guard sitting on a chair watching the screens. The room was small and lacked windows, only a single door. He reached his hand back.

Albany dug into the bag, pulled out Jerome's knife and handed it to him without a word.

He took the knife and placed it in front of him. Placing his hands on the grate he wiggled it free. He grabbed the knife and crawled out of the air vent and behind the guard who was sat on the chair.

Albany crawled out and brushed herself down. She looked away when Jerome slide the knife across the guard's neck. She had seen enough blood for one day. She moved over to the control panel she recognised from her dreams. Her eyes searched for the right button. She knew they were puffy from her crying earlier, no doubt her make-up looked an absolute mess. But her make-up situation wasn't at the top of her priority list. She finally found the button and pressed it. She looked over to the screens as watched them flicker until they had returned to a steady picture.

Jerome slid his hand into the guard's pocket and retrieved a key. He walked over to the single door and locked it. His hand shot to his face.

"What?"

Jerome grunted and rubbed his cheek. "Nothing."

"What is it?" she asked again. She examined his face and rubbed his cheek.

"I felt a shooting pain. I'm fine, he just hit me harder than I thought."

"Sure?" she asked.

He grabbed his doctor's hand. "We don't have long now." he tried to pull her to the vent but she stayed put. He sighed and looked at her. "I know you're upset about what happened to whatshisname. But-"

"It's not killing him that upset me."

Jerome turned his body to face her, somewhat curious.

"It's the fact he wouldn't keep quiet for me. We have been friends for years, did so much together, I thought he was my best friend. But he couldn't...he wouldn't..."

Jerome wiped her tears with his thumbs and held her face in his hands. "Now you understand why I work alone."

She looked up at his eyes.

"I mean, you're an exception," he winked. "You gave me my life back. This is the least I could do."

"And after we get out?" she worried about what his answer was going to be.

"I have a deal to follow through with." he placed his hand on his chest. "I'm a man of my word, you of all people should know that."

"Hmm." she nodded.

"Good girl. Come on, we aren't out yet." he slipped back into the vent.

Albany followed him and placed the metal grate back in place.

 

Jerome stopped. "Bingo!" He took the vent off and climb out.

Albany took his hand and clambered out of the air vent. She stood up and brushed herself down.

He stretched his arms above his head. "Ohhh, that feels good!"

Albany already had the bolt cutters out of the bag. She thrust them towards the ginger. "These better work!"

Jerome took them with a smile. "Stop doubting me gorgeous, I'm Jerome Valeska," he winked.

"You may be, but you're not immortal."

"Did I miss that part of the treatment? Damn!" He shuffled over to the barred window and placed the cutters around one of them.

Clang.

Clunk.

Jerome turned to Albany with a bar from the window in his hand, a smug smile on his face.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you were right."

"Course I was gorgeous," he smirked. He turned back and worked on the rest of the bars. "Grab one of the bars will you?"

She did as her patient asked and reached down to pick one up.

"Now, hold it like this," he changed his grip on the object, "then stand there." Jerome took the end of her bar and placed it on the window. "Hold it there. After three, smash it into the glass as hard as you can. I will do the same and it should break. Ready?"

"Ready."

"One...two...three!"

Thud.

Thud.

Smash.

Cold air flooded the room.

Jerome took a deep breath, it felt like a lifetime since he had received a lungful of city air. He didn't realise how much he had missed it. He coughed as he exhaled.

Albany put her hand on his chest. "Savour it later, your lungs aren't used to it yet."

"Ladies first." He bowed.

Albany climbed out of the window and landed on the wet grass. She stood up and looked out at the city, not quite believing her situation. She felt Jerome slip his hand into hers.

He smiled. "Time to go home." Jerome grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the building.

They reached a fence and looked up at it.

"It's too tall to climb.," Albany commented.

Jerome opened the bag on Albany's back and brought out the bolt cutters. He began working on the fence.

A blaring alarm sounded behind them and lights began to dart about.

"Shit!" Albany gasped. She looked behind her and saw figures searching.

Jerome dropped the bolt cutters and ripped the hole he had made open as much as he could. He winced as the sharp metal cut into his palms. Once it was wide enough, he crawled through. He turned back to Albany.

She was already on the floor crawling through the hole. A light landed on her, followed by incoherent shouts.

"C'mon keep going!" Jerome ordered.

Albany continued through the hole. She let out a scream when she heard a gunshot and felt something fly by her legs.

Jerome took hold of her arms and pulled her through. He turns her around and grabbed the gun from the bag. "Run!" he began shooting at the figure running towards the fence.

"Jer-"

"Run!" he ordered. He let out another shot.

Albany turned her back and began to run away from the facility. She heard a cry, it was Jerome. She heard gunshots and the shouting stopped. She stood still and looked at the fence. "J-Jerome?" she called. She saw something roll down the hill and land at the bottom. She ran after it as soon as she saw the ginger hair. She reached the bottom of the hill.

Jerome was still.

"Jerome?"

She put her hand on his shoulder and turned him over. She saw him clutching his chest, his hand covered in blood. "Oh shit..."

Jerome groaned.

"Oh god! Jerome! Are you okay?"

He smirked. "Nothing I can't handle sweetheart."

Albany glanced up to the fence, then back down at Jerome. She took his hand and helped him up. "Can you run still?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

She picked up the empty gun and shoved it into the bag. She grabbed Jerome's hand and lead him away as fast as she could. Leaving the blaring sirens and the facility far behind them.


	18. A Slight Problem

Jerome slammed his back against the stone wall and slid down to the floor. He was finding it hard to breath. He leant the back of his head against the wall and took in deep breaths of the night's air.

Albany knelt beside him and threw the bag down next to her. She unzipped it frantically and pulled out the spare shirt she had shoved in there a few hours before. She scrunched the blue material into a tight ball and crawled closer to Jerome. "Here," she said, moving his hand from his bleeding chest. She pressed the balled shirt onto the wound as hard as she could.

Jerome winced through gritted teeth. "We can't stop."

"A minute or so won't hurt."

"Albany..."

"You can't keep going in this state. You can hardly breath and you have blood pouring out of you!"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Do I? I didn't notice."

"I knew it was too soon," she muttered.

Jerome's eyes opened and looked at her.

She recognized that look and knew what was coming. "You've had worse, I know. But I put a lot of work resurrecting you." she moved her face closer to his and pressed down harder on the wound. "I am not putting all that effort to waste!" Albany looked over her shoulder. She knew they were being followed, but by how many and how far she didn't know. She hadn't seen any guards or officials for a while, but she wasn't taking any chances. She turned back to Jerome's wound and caught his expression. "What?"

The ginger smiled. "You're certainly a force not to be reckoned with ent ya doll?"

"Hell have no fury and all that," she smirked. She took Jerome's hand. "Now come on, get up. We are closer to the apartment than the facility now." she helped Jerome to his feet and kept the pressure on his chest. "What are we going to do when we get to the apartment? You're in no way to fight."

"That's what the gun is for," he replied.

"Will we have enough bullets?"

"As long as you don't miss."

"I don't plan to."

"Atta girl!"

Jerome grunted and stumbled forward. He was stopped by Albany's arm around his chest.

"Jerome, come on!" she tried to pull him back up, but to no avail. "Jerome!"

"Just...give me a minute..." he groaned.

Albany could see he was going pale. She slid her hand to his neck to feel his pulse. It was weaker than usual. She looked around for anything that could help. She spotted a car across from them. "Wait here."

Jerome looked up at her. "I was planning to."

Albany ran over to the car. She looked around her then smashed the car window. The car alarm blared out into the quiet street. She reached inside and unlocked the door. She jumped inside and began working on the car.

Jerome felt something rise in his throat. He let out a cough and saw blood splatter onto the floor in front of him. He took a deep breath in and tried to steady his heart. He heard the roar of an engine then arms around him.

Albany helped Jerome up and walked him over to the car. She sat him in the passenger seat and reached the seatbelt around him, taking care not to catch the bloodied balled shirt. She shut the door and ran around to the other side of the car. She shut her door, slipped her seatbelt on and hit the gas pedal.

Jerome fought his eyes to stay open. He recognized the street, they were close to his apartment. He pulled himself up a little in the passenger seat, anticipating the car breaking. He watched the apartment pass them. He looked at Albany.

Albany answered him she she felt his eyes on her. "We're not going there."

"Why..." his voice was becoming weaker.

"Jerome they will be waiting for us! It wouldn't be a problem, but you're injured. We can't face whoever is waiting there like this." Albany shoved her foot down on the clutch and switched up a gear.

"Then...where are...are we going?"

"You'll see soon enough," she replied. She glanced over to him. "Try to stay awake, okay?"

"Sleepy..."

"Jerome! Stay awake!" her voice sounded like an order. She saw his eyes begin to close.

 

 

Jerome felt the hot tears roll down his face. He brought his knees up to his face and wrapped his arms around them. He buried his head deeper into his arms and tried to quieten his sobs.

"Why are you crying, Jerome?" a voice said.

Jerome looked up and could see someone standing above him. He wiped the tears from his cheeks. "It's my birthday...and my Mom and the snake guy are beating me." He couldn't steady his sobs. His blurry vision staid on the figure in the hope of some reassurance or comfort. Maybe even sympathy.

The figure moved over him. "This world doesn't care about you or anyone else, Jerome. Better realize that now!" the voice had become harsh.

Jerome watched the figure walk away. Once he was out of sight, he buried his head again and continued crying.


	19. Safety

Jerome felt a fresh tear slide down the side of his face. He was a man full of many complex emotions, but always hid them the best he could. Everyone had their demons, but Jerome kept his strictly to himself. He had learnt to block out a lot of the memories and nightmares, but since he met Albany they were creeping back. He spent most of his time infiltrating her dreams and amusing himself by using her as a pawn in his cryptic games. But now he was able to speak to her in person, there was little to no need. He knew as soon as he stopped controlling her dreams his own would return to him. He knew it was a risk, but it was one he had to take. He let out a long and stuttered sigh. He felt the heartache from his dreams manifest in his chest. He reached up to his wound and felt something soft. He opened his eyes, they were blurry from the tears. He glanced down at his chest and saw his wound was bandaged. No doubt Albany treated him whilst he was asleep. He wiped his face with his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up at the ceiling and paused. He didn't remember getting into a bed.

He looked around the small room. It looked old and un-lived in. Even from his position he could see a thick layer of dust on a cabinet opposite him. It looked to be made of oak, but the dust was so thick it was hard to tell. The room smelt old and stale. Most of the furniture he could see looked older than him. He swallowed, his throat was dry. He shuffled and tried to sit up, but was stopped by a shooting pain in his chest. Even though the wound had been treated, it still hurt like hell. He looked around for his shirt, but didn't see it. He prepared himself for the anticipated pain and pushed himself off of the bed and to his feet. His hand shot out and slammed onto the wall next to him as he held his head in the other. He groaned softly and waited a few seconds until the dizziness dissipated. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door, hi vision still tainted by the dizziness. He stepped into the next room and glanced around. This room was a bit bigger than the previous one, but it still looked old and un-lived in.

"Hey sleepy," a voice cooed.

Jerome looked to his left and saw another room.

"Sit down, you'll get dizzy."

He looked over at a wooden chair. He questioned its stability, but decided to sit anyway. He didn't have enough energy to stand, let alone argue. "Already there, doll."

Albany entered the room and placed a plate down in front of him.

The corners of Jerome's mouth turned upwards into a smirk when he say what was laid out in front of him.

"You said I owed you a home cooked meal." Albany looked down at his bandage. "How are you feeling?"

"Fucking fantastic," he replied, his voice hoarse and weak.

"I can imagine. I did the best I could," she began.

Jerome looked up at her and saw his shirt. It was clean and the small hole made by the bullet was fixed.

"I was never that good at needlework." she shrugged. "But at least it's clean. I'm sure we can pick you another one up somewhere." she folded the shirt up. "Shame, it was a nice shirt. You've got a good eye for fashion, for a guy." she winked.

"Speaking of somewhere..." he looked around the room, then gave Albany a questionable look.

She sat on the wooden chair next to him. "Back in the town I lived in with my father, I used to help my neighbour out." she placed the folded shirt on her lap and began pouring her and Jerome some tea. "She was an elderly lady called Carol. She was friends with my Mom and I used to play with her dog." she dropped a few teaspoons of sugar into the cups. "When my Mom died she invited me round and said I was always welcome. She never liked my father and knew he had a temper, so she enjoyed having me over. Not only for the help but it gave her peace of mind that I was safe. I helped her with things like gardening, cleaning and I went into town for her on the odd occasion. I loved spending time with her, I never knew my grandmother so I thought of her as a surrogate. My father was oblivious to the fact I was even gone most of the time."

"She knew your father had a temper?"

"Before you ask, she did report him. But you know what the authorities are like. People like me tend to get...what do they call it..."

"Lost in the system."

"That's it." she stirred the two cups. "Anyway, it was around Christmas time she called me over. She sat me down and told me she had been to the doctors."

Jerome noted the change in Albany's tone as her eyes fell to his shirt she was holding.

"She had terminal cancer." Albany sat back in her chair and looked at the shirt. "The doctors told her she only had a few months left. She said she wanted to thank me for all I had done for her over the years. I told her she didn't have to do anything but she insisted. She gave me her life savings."

Jerome eyes widened.

Albany looked at him and held up a finger. "Don't get too excited, it wasn't a lot. When she gave it to me she told me I was to get out of this town and find a little place of my own. She knew I was a smart girl and I could work something out." Albany slid the drink over to Jerome. "I told her I would but I wasn't leaving until she had died. She took me into town and helped me set up a bank account and put the money into it for me. The next day I planned to go to her house again. When I stepped out the front...there was an ambulance outside..." she began twiddling the folded shirt in her fingers. "And a coroner."

"Thought she had months left?"

"She did. She also had really strong pain killers for the pain..."

Jerome didn't need to ask her to explain further.

"That day I packed what little possessions I had. At first I had no idea where I was going. I just got on the first train I saw and rode it to the end of the line.

"The last stop was Gotham?"

She nodded. "I staid at a few cheap hotels for a while, I wouldn't be surprised if some of them had been crime scenes at one point."

"This town is full of surprises, sweet," Jerome said under his breath.

"I was looking at properties one day and saw this place. It wasn't much to look at but it was cheaper than living long term in a run down hotel. I talked to the owner and he said I could have it for half the price he was offering. He said it was more expensive to get it demolished than sell it. I stayed here and worked some jobs around town, then I happened upon a job at the facility. I didn't need to stay here since they offered employees on-site accommodation. But I always kept it as a backup plan. It's not worth selling anyhow."

Jerome took another look around the quaint room. "So who knows you own this place?"

"Just me." she smiled.

"You said you wanted to leave the facility." he brought his gaze back to her. "Why not quit and move back into this place?"

Albany rested her head on a propped up elbow. "You think the thought didn't cross my mind?" she sighed. "You've seen inside the facility Jerome, you've witnessed my work there. You really think they would let me hand my notice in and leave? When you sign that contract you sign away your life."

"If you knew that then why did you do it?"

"Why does anyone do anything? I had nothing better going for me and I enjoyed the work...at first. The people at the facility are the kind of people who can keep a secret." Albany stood up and walked to a chest of drawers. "They also value their life and know when to keep their mouths shut." she opened a drawer and brought out a bottle of pills. "Here, take two," she said and handed him the bottle.

Jerome twisted the cap off and tipped two white pills into his hand. He looked at the label, they were painkillers. He shoved them in his mouth and gulped them down before reaching for his drink. He was pleading for them to kick in.

"I knew security would be on our tails, we both did. But we didn't factor in that." she pointed to his bandages.

Jerome shrugged. "I like to keep things interesting."

"We can stay here until you're healed enough." Albany began making her way into the kitchen. She lowered her voice and muttered to herself. "I knew he wasn't strong enough. I'm so stupid!"

"No you're not."

She stopped at Jerome's voice. She kept her back to him and closed her eyes. "Yes, I am Jerome.. I am stupid. The decisions I've made just validate that fact. Of all the places to come, anywhere in the world, I come to Gotham. I could have gone to New York, to California. I could have even gone to England. But no, I chose here. A dead-beat town full of criminals and scum. I brought a house that could never be a home, no matter how much work is put into it. I gave my life away to a job which had absolutely no ethics! I thought of leaving yes, but I never even tried because I'm a coward! I'm weak! The only friends I had were corpses and Oliver...at least...I thought he was my friend." she turned to him, her eyes filled with tears. "I could be sitting at a desk working a nine to five job with a husband and a place to call a home! But no, I threw that away and took the worst opportunities imaginable and I even failed at them! So yes, Jerome, I am stupid!" she hit her head with the palm of her hand over and over again. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid little girl!" she turned her back to him again.

Jerome jumped up from his chair and marched over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and spun her round. He grasped her other shoulder and stared into her eyes. "I survived years of abuse from a whore of a mother. I survived her beatings, her lovers beatings. I've been shot, ran over, thrown about like a rag doll," he pointed to the large scar on his neck. "I even survived being stabbed in the fucking neck!"

"You didn't survive! You died!" she screamed.

"And who brought me back to life? Who gave me a second chance? You!" he lowered his voice and returned his hand to her shoulder. "You're many things Albany Lux, but you are not stupid! You hear me?"

She lowered her head.

"You are not stupid. You're not weak, you're not a failure, you're not stupid and you're not a coward!" Jerome put his hands on either side of her head and forced her to look at him. His voice was soft and reassuring. "You're my friend." he wiped away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "And you know what friends do when things get tough?"

"They stick together," she muttered.

"They stick together," he echoed with a nod.

"Now if I ever hear you call yourself stupid again, there's gonna be trouble. Okay?"

She closed her eyes as Jerome placed a soft kiss on her hair. She nodded with a smile as another tear fell. "Okay," she whispered.

 

 

Jerome lay in bed looking up at the ceiling. The white paint was flaky and there were small patches where chunks of it had already fallen off. He shuffled a little, but froze when the pain shot through his wound again. He grunted and grabbed the bottle of pills off of the night stand next to the bed. He opened the top and gulped a few down, then fell back onto the bed. He stretched one hand to the back of his head and drummed his fingers on his bare chest. He closed his eyes again and attempted to sleep again. The pain was keeping him awake, he thought back to the last time he had felt this much pain. He had been shot before, beaten, thrown about and even strangled now and again. But that was when his body was strong and able to take a beating. He smiled to himself, God could he take a beating! Now he felt weak. Not physically weak, but more of a weakened brought on by exhaustion. On many occasions he had to remind himself he wasn't exactly one hundred percent back to his old self yet, he wasn't sure when he would be. But when he was, hell would rain down upon Gotham. That was one thing he knew for sure.

Albany opened the door and peaked through the gap. She saw Jerome lying on his back on the bed, his eyes closed. She began to close the door when he spoke.

"It's okay," he said, his eyes still closed. "I'm awake."

Albany opened the door and stepped in. "The pain keeping you awake, huh?"

"No, I just like the look of the inside of my eyelids."

"Must be fascinating," she replied and folded her arms.

"Mmm, it is. It was boring at first, but after being dead for a bit, ah, you get used to it."

"I bet."

Jerome opened one eye and looked over to her. A small smile peeked the side of his mouth. He closed his eye and turned his head back to the original position.

"We are running low on food. I need to go into town to get some." She waited for a reply. "Jerome?" Albany realized he must have finally slipped into sleep. She closed the door quietly behind her.

Once the door clicked shut Jerome's eyes opened.


	20. A Trip into Town

The cop opened the car door and slumped into the passenger seat. He handed his partner a steaming white Styrofoam cup and took a sip from him.

Albany watched the two talk. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they seemed to be flicking through the newspaper. Her eyes turned to the apartment behind the car. She had decided to check out the apartment to see if there was any edible food inside and to grab Jerome some more clothes. It would save her the trouble of going into shops and no doubt be recognized. She expected to see GCPD units everywhere, but only one car sat in front of the apartment.

The car had been there all morning, watching. Every car that drove past, every person who walked by, nothing went untouched by the two in uniform. No doubt they were looking for two people in particular; Jerome and his missing doctor. It was clear they were not going to give up until they had the two in custody.

Albany had wondered if she could run to the front door. She shook the idea from her head when she had realized it was an utterly stupid idea. She was about to walk away when the driver's door opened.

The driver stepped out and stretched his arms out wide. He walked towards a cafe at the end of the street whilst whistling to himself.

Albany glanced back over to the car and saw the other officer looking down at an open newspaper. She decided to take the opportunity and began creeping towards the apartment's front door. Her eyes darted between the cafe's door and the officer in the car. She kept her distance from the car and walked behind a few thick trees lining the path. She took one last look at the two officers' locations, then darted to the door. She shoved the key in and begged for it to open.

Click.

She rushed inside and closed the door behind her, letting out the deep breath she had held in. She didn't want to waste any time and ran up the stairs. She froze when she came to the apartment's door. Yellow crime scene tape covered it and it was obvious it had been forced open. She took a step forward and placed her hand on the door. She pushed it a little and watched it swing open with ease. She looked into the room

The table was turned over along with a chair she once sat in. Everything had been ripped from the walls, even the cupboards. The small television set had been smashed and thrown to the floor. Ripped wires surrounded the television, the window next to it was covered by a white sheet. The carpet, which had been partially torn up, was scattered with a mixture of shattered glass, material, wood and rubbish. A dim glow of a UV light lay among the chaos, it illuminated dark spots in the room here and there.

Albany ducked under the yellow tape and stepped over what looked to be a chair. “Jerome is not going to be happy,” she sighed. She headed towards the bedroom, stepping over the mixture of dangers on the floor. She saw the bedroom was in the same state as the other room.

The bed was turned over, sheets ripped. The lamp on the bedside cabinet was on the other side of the room along with a few ripped books. The carpet was also partially torn up. Another UV light lay next to a box of latex gloves and plastic bags. The weapons Jerome had once stashed under the bed and in his cupboard were gone.

She searched the floor and found a few items that looked to be clothes. Upon picking them up, she saw they were torn to shreds. She knew the apartment would be raided and searched, but she never imagined it would be so extreme. They really wanted to find the pair.

She rummaged through the whole apartment with speed she never knew she had. She had no idea if anyone was going to come up, what would she do if she was caught in Jerome's apartment? She had brought the gun with her, but she prayed she wouldn't have to use it. Not again. Eventually she found a shirt which had seemingly been missed. She shoved it in her bag and continued her search. She came across half a bottle of alcohol. With quick tinging she shoved it into the bag and grabbed a few of the ripped shirts from the floor, it would have to do. She took one look at the cupboards. She didn't need to search them, someone had done that for her and seen they were either empty or had spoiled food in. She spotted a water bottle and decided to fill it. She would have to find food somewhere else. Once she had found enough food for her and Jerome, she planned to leave Gotham. She had no idea where she was going to take Jerome, but the further away the better. She just needed enough food for the journey, she couldn't risk buying any in the next town across. She expected the search was not restricted to Gotham city alone. She wouldn't be able to buy anything until hey were far away from the city and could obtain some anonymity.

She crept out of the bomb site of an apartment and carefully pulled the door back to its original position. She walked down the stairs and found a window facing the front of the building. She peaked through the corner and saw an officer leaning against the car smoking. Her eyes searched for the other one.

A door opened.

Albany fell to the floor and crawled over to the winding stairs. She peeked down the center of the stairs and saw a uniformed man walking up the stairs. She shoved herself away from the banister and clasped her hand over her mouth. She glanced to her left. She couldn't go back into the apartment. She turned to her right. A quiet corridor with two doors on each side. It was her only chance. She scurried to the windows at the end of the corridor, staying as low as she could. She felt a mixture of fear and adrenaline kick in, the same feeling she had the night of the escape. She squeezed her eyes shut and ran numerous ideas through her head. She turned and looked up at the window. She pulled herself up and looked out of it. It was high, very high. There was nothing to break her fall. A noise came from behind her, a door opening. She turned around and saw a middle aged woman walking to the stairs. She looked at the door, the woman had left it open. The brunette slipped into the apartment, closing the door softly behind her and flicked the lock. She looked around, no one else was in the room. She ran to the kitchen and ripped open a cupboard. She grabbed a number of food packets and shoved them into her bag, not caring what they were. She spotted a green first aid box on a shelf. She jumped up and grabbed it, throwing it into the bag also.

The door handle shook.

Albany looked at the window.

The handle shook again, along with a bang on the door.

Albany lifted the window open and looked down. She smiled with a huge sigh of relief when she saw it was a fire escape. She clambered out of the window and dropped onto the ledge. She slide the window shut and ran down the steps, her shoes clunking against the metal steps. She reached the bottom and looked to the left of the alleyway. There was no way she could run past the officers now they were possibly alerted. She turned to her left and began to run as fast as she could. She could feel her chest aching, her lungs burning from her heavy breathing. Her legs were beginning to feel the strain of her sprint, but she refused to stop. She didn't know how far she had run or where she was running to, she just ran. She glanced back over her shoulder to check she wasn't being followed.

Albany felt an impact on her chest. She rolled over the front of something solid and landed on the floor with a thud. Pain surged through her arm and head. She opened her eyes, everything was blurry. She saw something black and round, a wheel.

A figure towered above her.

She blinked a few times to try to correct her vision. She heard a voice.

“You've been a bad girl, Albany Lux.”

Everything went black.


	21. The Room

Albany's head felt heavy on the pillow. She placed a hand on her head and begged for the pain to subside, even just a little. Her vision was blurred when she first opened her eyes. She fought to keep them open. It was then she felt something cold on her skin. She wiggled her leg a little and heard a noise. She couldn't quite make out what it was. She pulled her leg up to her slowly and moved her hand down to her ankle, something cold was wrapped around it. Her fingers brushed the cold material and came to something smaller attached to it.

A chain.

She tugged on it and it became taught. She pushed herself up and rested her dizzy head against the wall. She tried to pull her leg free, but to no avail. Every moment she made resulted in a small noise coming from the chain. As her eyes cleared she looked down at the shackle. She grabbed the chain and followed it to the end of the bed. She saw the chain disappear under the bed. She lowered her head down and saw it attached to the floor with a number of large sturdy bolts. She slid off of the soft bed and landed on the floor. She inspected the bolts before trying to tug on them. She twisted her hands around them every way she could until her fingers were red raw. She gathered her energy and placed her fingers around the chain, she pulled as hard as she could. Albany flew backwards and crashed into something behind her. She rubbed the back of her head and looked down. A small wooden bed lay in her lap. She picked it up and held it in the palm of her hand. She recognized this bed. She searched her memories to try and place it. She turned her head to see what she had tumbled into. A doll house sat behind her, its contents scatted around it. It wasn't just any doll house, it was her doll house from her childhood. Memories she had tried so hard to lock away flooded her mind in an instant. She looked around the darkened room. Where was she? She pulled herself up against the wall and felt around for a light switch. The wall guided her around the perimeter of the room, the chain shuffling along with her. She finally felt a small switch. She flicked it and used her hands to shield her eye from the sudden blast of light. Once her eyes adjusted she looked around the room.

It was small with little furniture. The bed she awoke in sat in the corner of the room, pushed against the corner. Above it was a small window covered in bars and mesh, there was no way she could climb out of it. Even without the bars and mesh she couldn't fit. The pink doll house lay at the end of it. A table was next to the bed with a single chair, underneath it was a bucket. Everything apart from the bucket was fixed to the ground. “This is...” Albany gasped. “This is...my...my room?”

 

 

The door handle rattled.

Albany shot back over to the bed and pulled the covers around her, hoping they could somehow grant her protection.

The door opened with a creak. Heavy footsteps approached the bed. “You're awake.”

Albany peaked out from the blanket. Her father stood at the edge of the bed.

“Welcome home,” he said with a smile.

Albany smelt the alcohol on his breath. She shuffled back further into the bed. “W-what are you talking about?”

Her father looked around the room with outstretched arms. “What'd ya think? I did a pretty good job recreating your room, didn't I? I told you I would find you. Reunited at last! I bet you missed me, didn't you? You are my daughter, now you're gonna act like it.”

Albany waited for him to make the next move before throwing her leg out at him and landing it on his round stomach.

He grunted and regained his balance.

Albany jumped off of the bed and ran to the door. Just before she managed to reach the handle she felt a sharp tug on her leg. She fell face first into the ground. She rolled onto her back and clasped her bleeding ankle tight.

Her father took another step and leaned over Albany. “Isn't your daddy smart.” he smiled.

Albany spat in his face.

He sighed as he wiped the saliva from his cheek. “Still the same disobedient girl. After all these years...”

Albany swing a fist at his face.

Her father caught it before it hit him and yanked her up to her feet.

Albany cried at the pain in her arm and let out another when she stood on her ankle.

The man stood up straight. “Looks like I will have to teach you a lesson.

Albany watched him undo his belt and slip it away from his waist.

 

Albany looked down at the mashed potato and gravy in front of her. Her stomach was begging her to eat it, but she refused. She wasn't going to appreciate anything this man gave her.

“You must be hungry.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her bruised arm. “How did you find me?” she asked quietly.

He let out a soft chuckle. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”

A notebook landed next to the plate.

Albany's eyes wandered over the leather cover. She reached out and opened it up to the first page. Her eyes widened as she flicked through the rest of the pages. “A private investigator?” she muttered under her breath.

“You thought I wouldn't notice you'd ran away?”

Albany held her tongue. She was in enough pain.

“You're my daughter Albany.” he placed his hands on her shoulder and squeezed them. “Your mother would want me to look after you.”

Albany's fear transformed into anger. But she held back.

“It took him some time to find you. I had no idea where you'd gone. But you didn't have a lot of money so you couldn't have gone too far. He told me you were in this city called Gotham. I thought what on earth was she doing there? But I didn't dwell on your reasoning too much. The fact is he found you.” his grip on her shoulders increased. “But just as I was about to come and get you, you moved and disappeared again. So did the investigator.” he reached over her and began flicking through the book. “A few months passed without a peep from him. Until one day I received a phone call. You were working in a place called 'Indian Hill'. My baby has gone into medical science. I was so proud.” he smirked.

Albany watched his fingers flip the pages.

“He told me he had to stop contacting me so he could follow you without suspicion. Apparently he had built up quite a friendship with you, he had gained your trust. He was going to bring you to me a few days ago. But I haven't heard from him. I heard rumors of a scientist and a patient disappearing from this Indian Hill place. I knew it had to be you. So I searched the streets trying to find you. And here we are.” he ruffled her hair. “Good to have you home kid.”

Albany's eyes were fixed on the page before her. The name of the investigator was scribbled in black ink on a crisp white page.

Dr Oliver Jones.


	22. Rescued

Albany had read the book cover to cover twice. She was stuck between the struggle of belief and betrayal, she was trying to decide which hurt more. She thought Oliver was her friend, they had done nearly everything together. All that time his motives were corrupt. Even after learning of the truth she still felt the guilt of killing him swirling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to hate him so bad, she wanted to believe killing him was in some way validated. But it wasn't, not to her anyway. She couldn't hate him. He may have been investigating her and using his kindness to infiltrate her personal life, but she still considered him a friend.

The brunette slammed the book shut with both hands and launched it across the room. She tilted her head back onto the wall and closed her eyes. The tears stained her skin. How did it all come to this? It began as a routine job, now she was stuck in a replica of a room she felt so much pain in, under the watchful eye of her so called father.

She looked over to where the book had landed. It had hit the pink doll house. Something caught her eye. She crawled over to it and picked it up. She dropped it and saw a drop of blood seep from her skin. She stuck her finger in her mouth and looked down at what had hurt her, it was a piece of glass. She looked to the dollhouse and saw one of the windows was missing. She opened the front of the house and examined the other windows, they were all made of glass. She found the biggest window and began to pry the sheet of glass out. It wasn't very big, but it would do. She brought the glass back over to the bed. Once there, she ripped a corner from the pillowcase and wrapped it around one end of the glass. She then placed it under her pillow.

She sighed and stood on the bed. She reached up to the small window and peeked out; it was night-time. She had no idea of the exact time due to the lack of a clock, but she imagined it was near midnight. Her estimation was based on how long it had been since she had eaten. Her father would bring her food at around six PM, then she heard nothing for the rest of the night. She remembered staying up many nights to fill out paperwork or make up for lost time. It was always around midnight she would be getting hungry again.

She fell down onto the bed and pulled the thin sheet across her body. She lay on her side and brought her hands up to her face. She soon gave up wiping away her tears, there were too many.

 

Her eyes opened. She heard a noise. Her sleepy mind identified it as the door handle moving. She glanced up to the window and saw it was still dark. Her father had never come to her in the night. Her mind immediately jumped to the worst memories. He must have been drinking and decided his anger needed to be soothed. Is that was the case then this was her chance to try and attack him and possibly get the key to her shackle from him. She threw the thin sheet off of her and reached under the pillow for her makeshift weapon. She moved over to the door as far as her restraint would let her, trying to be as quiet as she could.

The door handle continued to rattle.

She readied her weapon as her heart began to beat faster. Her hands were shaking just as much as her legs were, but she was able to steady herself.

The door opened.

Albany lunged forward with her weapon and swiped as fast as she could.

The dark figure jumped back and landed with a thud just outside of the door.

Albany tried to move closer to the figure, the weapon still in her hand.

“Nice to see you too, doll,” a voice said.

Albany paused and lowered the glass. “Jerome?”

“No, it's the Easter bunny. Heard you wanted some chocolate eggs.”

Albany reached for the light switch and pressed it. She looked back into the doorway and saw a familiar ginger on the floor with one hand on his cheek. “Oh god Jerome I'm so sorry!”

Jerome wiped the cut on his cheek with the bottom of his shirt. He chuckled. “Don't be, I should have warned you.” he stood up. “Don't I even get a hug?” he asked with a smile.

Albany's eyes lit up and she moved towards him. She stopped.

Jerome followed her eyes down to her blooded ankle. He looked up at her and pulled a key from his pocket. “I wondered what this was for.”

“Where did you get that?” she asked surprised.

Jerome knelt down before her and freed her of her shackle then stood up. He moved a stray lock of hair from her tear stained cheek and cupped her face in his hands, wiping the rest of the tears away. “I heard you were playing happy families,” he frowned. “If I'm not aloud to do that, then neither are you.”

Albany smiled and threw her arms around him.

Jerome wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. “I'm sorry I took so long.”

“How did you find me?”

“You really think I'd let the doctor wander round town alone? What if you got caught by the police or killed? Who would cook me dinner then?”

Albany pulled away from his body. “You followed me?”

“I also followed daddy once he had hit you with his car. We aren't too far outside Gotham.” As he spoke, he checked her over. “Is that from him?” he asked, running his fingers over a bruise.

She nodded.

“Here,” he said, pulling a bottle from his back pocket.

Albany recognized the label, it was the pain killers. She swallowed some. “How did you get in here? Where's my father?”

“He's a bit...tied up right now.” he lifted a finger as his smile widened. “Ah, now that, Dr Lux, will defiantly cheer you up.” he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. “Come on.”

 

Jerome sat Albany down at the kitchen table and began to clean her ankle. “You're gonna want to be able to stand for this.” he wrapped a bandage around the wound.

“For what?”

“You kept your half of the promise.” He opened the door to the living room with a smile. “Now it's my turn to keep mine.”

Albany walked over to the doorway and reached for the light switch. She flicked it up and looked into the room. Her father was slummed on a wooden chair with his hands and legs tied. Her eyes widened at the sight. She began walking backwards.

Jerome stood behind her and wrapped his arm around her. “Don't worry doll, he can't hurt you now.”

“How did you...” her words trailed off.

“It took him a while to open the door, but when he did, he had this in his hand.” Jerome walked to a table and picked up a nearly empty bottle of Vodka. He took a sniff and grimaced. “Jesus man, if you're gonna drink ya might as well drink something decent!” he threw the bottle to the floor and approached the unconscious man. “He made it so easy for me. I was kinda disappointed.”

“Easy to what?”

“Whack him into unconsciousness.” he nodded toward a baseball bat lying next to the wooden chair. “The next bit was so routine. Get the cable ties, hands, legs, chair yada yada yada.” he turned to Albany. “So, whad'ya think, sweets?”

Albany's eyes were still on her father. “Tied up. That's funny.”

Jerome smiled at her reply. “You wanna know what's even more funny?”

Her eyes switched to his. “What?”

He handed her the bat. “It's your turn,” he said in a sinister voice.

The man stirred.

They looked at him.

Albany walked until she stood in front of him. She watched him weakly lift his head and waited for his dazed eyes to meet her.

Jerome watched Albany ball her hand into a fist and force it into his face. He pulled out the gun from his belt and handed it to her.

Albany looked down at the gun, then to Jerome. “No,” she said.

Jerome was taken aback by her voice. It was dark, it was full of years of hate. He slowly smiled and handed her the knife. “Don't make too much mess,” he smirked.

“I intend to."

Jerome walked to the sofa and chuckled. He sat down and lit up a cigarette. He was going to enjoy this, but not nearly as much as Albany. 

 

Albany ran her hand through her wet hair and turned the shower off. Once she had inspected herself in the mirror she got dressed. Her clothes were still a little damp but she didn't mind, she would rather have them damp than covered in her father's blood. She rubbed her hair with a cream towel and wandered into the kitchen.

Jerome closed the door leading to the living room. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. He glanced over his shoulder.

“What's that smirk for?” Albany asked.

“I knew you had a lot of built up anger, but that...that was not the Albany Lux I knew.” He turned to her and handed her a shirt. “Put it on, you'll get cold in damp clothes.”

Albany took it and put it on. It smelt like Jerome. They stood in silence for a while. “So...what now?” she finally asked.

Jerome held up a bunch of car keys. “Looks like you've iterated a car, and I quite fancy a holiday.”

“A holiday huh?” Albany placed a finger on her chin and thought. “It would be nice to de-stress for a while.”

“Haven't you done that already?” he laughed motioning to the door.

“Where do you fancy?” she asked.

“Well, I've always fancied New York.”

Albany smiled. “New York sounds good.”


End file.
